Settle Down
by sarahkwUT
Summary: Damon Salvatore is a fast-talking, womanizing sports agent, living big in New York City and leaving his childhood in Mystic Falls far behind him. When he returns home for his father's funeral, he meets Elena Gilbert, a fiery brunette who gets under his skin. Between her and facing his past, returning to Mystic Falls may change his life. AU/AH
1. Repass

**I'm quite nervous to be posting this. I used to write fan fiction _all _the time, but life got busy with college and being a grown up and stuff. I'm also a new Vampire Diaries fan - binge watched it on Netflix - and became a big fan of the Damon/Elena relationship. I had this idea and decided to run with it and see what happens. You may hate it, you may love it, but I'm going to put it out there. **

**Damon Salvatore is a fast-talking, womanizing sports agent living big in New York City, leaving his small town childhood in Mystic Falls well behind him. He returns to the small town after his father's passing to handle his affairs and meets Elena Gilbert, a confident, intelligent brunette that seems impervious to his charms. Between pursuing the feisty Elena and coming to terms with his past, returning to Mystic Falls may just change his life.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Vampire Diaries. _**

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><p>Elena Gilbert blew out a breath of boredom and swirled the champagne around in her flute. She would never understand the concept of the repass, the gathering for a meal after a funeral. It was tradition, she supposed, especially in the South, but the concept of congregating to wine and dine mere minutes after laying a person in their final resting place seemed wrong.<p>

All around her, the residents of Mystic Falls sipped from tumblers and stems of their choice, sampled from the expansive buffet laid out along one wall as they laughed and talked amongst themselves. An hour earlier, the very same people were standing somberly around a rectangular hole dug six feet deep, an elaborate and expensive coffin perched above it as a pastor presided over last farewells. The merriment now was hypocritical, at best. Most of the people gathered at the Lockwood mansion, so graciously offered up by Carol Lockwood for a place to host the repass, were only there for show. Giuseppe Salvatore was a member of a founding family - his repass was a cocktail party in disguise. She took a sip from her glass as she rolled her eyes at her present situation.

"Champagne too dry?" came an unfamiliar voice. Elena turned, her eyes meeting the very blue orbs of someone she had only ever seen from a distance.

Damon Salvatore stood before her, clad in a perfectly tailored, all-black designer suit, the definition of walking sex. Elena wouldn't deny that he was attractive, but she could sniff out his type from a mile away. Devastatingly handsome with more money than sense, he was trouble she didn't need nor want. And if she had to guess, she'd be willing to bet that he was playing the dead daddy card for a sympathy bed.

"I prefer a brut, actually," she told him. "I'd say this is a dry/sec, at best."

"Interesting. I pegged you for a doux."

"Well, you pegged wrong." The corner of one side of Dam`1on's lips quirked upwards in a smirk. She was feisty. He liked that in a conquest. It tended to make the time spent between the sheets a little hotter.

"Little Elena Gilbert from down the street grew up to have a bit of fire inside," he said. "Color me impressed." Elena's eyes flickered to where Damon's brother, Stefan, was greeting the townspeople, looking appropriately somber and as fazed by the death of a parent as one should be.

"Shouldn't you be with your brother, greeting mourners and thanking them for their sympathy?" she asked.

"Been doing that for days," Damon said with a casual shrug. He took a couple of steps around her and helped himself to the open bar. "It was boring on day one, even more boring now. So, when I saw a pretty girl standing over here all by her lonesome, I decided to take a break from playing mourning son and use my best lines to get you into the coat closet I spied in the entry way." Elena had expected him to make a pass. She hadn't expected him to be so blunt. Regardless, she was ending his pursuit before it started.

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, your best lines have failed you." She made to walk away, but Damon, now with a tumbler of bourbon in his hand, stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Who said that was my best line?" he asked. Elena emptied her remaining champagne and discarded her empty flute as a waiter with an empty tray passed.

"I'm not that kind of girl," she told him. "But you are that kind of guy. And I'm not interested." She made to move past him again and this time, he allowed her to pass. Even as she joined her friends, she could feel his eyes on her. She made it a point not to give him the satisfaction of looking his way.

"Damon Salvatore is staring at you like you're a piece of meat," Caroline Forbes stated. Happily engaged to Tyler Lockwood, she could still appreciate a man as beautiful as Damon Salvatore.

"I'm a woman," Elena replied. "As far as he's concerned, we are all meat."

"He doesn't seem too upset that his father just died," Bonnie Bennett observed as she nibbled at a crab cake from the small plate she held in her hand.

Elena chanced a glance in his direction and wasn't altogether surprised to see he'd moved on to his next target. He caught her looking and winked at her before turning his attention back to the unsuspecting red head. Elena rolled her eyes once more and turned back to her friends who had already moved the topic of conversation on to the Labor Day celebration Caroline was planning. Elena nodded and smiled and contributed to the conversation as needed, but she let her thoughts drift to what she could remember about Damon Salvatore.

He was six years older than her, a senior in high school when she was in seventh grade. His younger brother, Stefan, had been in her year. She had dated Stefan on and off in high school, had photos from their junior prom tucked away in the attic somewhere. Even then, he'd been known as the good brother, the Salvatore that could be counted on to bring his date home before curfew and mind his morals. It was Damon the parents of young daughters worried about.

Elena had kept her distance from the elder Salvatore growing up, mainly because he was so much older, but also because she knew even as an impressionable middle schooler that he was dangerous. Her vague memories of him featured him in mostly black, leaning against his muscle car, taking drags from a cigarette or else making out with some girl in a dark corner.

He'd left Mystic Falls the same day as graduation. There were all sorts of rumors about his disappearance, each one more ridiculous than the next. But Stefan had filled her in, saying he'd took off almost as soon as they'd arrived home from the graduation ceremony for South Beach where he'd partied through a significant portion of his trust fund. From there, he'd bounced from city to city, showing up in Mystic Fork for the odd holiday, only to leave again almost immediately. Stefan never said much about his older brother, but it was understood amongst their close-knit circle of friends that they were less than close.

While Caroline and Bonnie chattered on about one thing and then another, Elena's gaze fell on Stefan. Their relationship was strictly that of friends these days, but she knew he would make someone, likely Rebekah, the girl he'd been dating for several months and seemed to fall for a little more each day, the perfect husband. He was kind and loving, put others before himself. He'd gone to medical school and was now a second year trauma resident at the University of Virginia Medical Center about 45 minutes outside of Mystical Falls. As for Damon, he was a womanizer with money and worked as a broker or something like that in New York City. The two brothers couldn't be more different.

"Seriously, Elena, I'm jealous," Caroline said, breaking Elena out of her reverie. "Damon has practically undressed you with his eyes and probably done a few other things too."

"Well, that's as close as he'll get," Elena quipped. She checked the time and deemed it appropriate for her to say her farewells. "I'm going to head home, try to get some work done before bed. I'll see you both tomorrow." After exchanging goodbyes, she crossed the room to Stefan.

"Heading out?" he asked.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I wanted to tell you goodbye before I left. Where is Rebekah?" Stefan nodded towards his girlfriend who was conversing with Carol Lockwood.

"Charming the neighbors," he said. "She fits right in."

"She does," Elena agreed. She gave Stefan a pointed smile. "She fits right in around Mystic Falls too." Stefan chuckled.

"Thanks, Elena," he said. "And thanks for coming."

"Where else would I be?" she countered. She leaned in and gave him a hug.

"Leaving so soon?" came Damon's voice as she pulled away from Stefan. "Or, should I say, leaving without a goodbye?"

"Yes," Elena replied. Damon raised an eyebrow.

"To which of my questions?" he countered.

"Both."

"My dad just died. I think I deserve a hug too."

"Damon," Stefan warned in an undertone. Damon threw a glare at his brother before painting on a smirk and turning back to Elena.

"Thank you for grieving with us," he said, his words laced with sarcasm. Elena scrunched her face in confusion at Damon's clear disinterest in the fact that his father was dead. Stefan just shook his head behind Damon and turned to speak to someone who had approached to offer their sympathies.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry about your father," Elena told him. "I liked Giuseppe."

"That makes one of us," Damon grumbled. He took a swig from the refilled bourbon glass in his hand.

"Bye, Damon," Elena said with a quick shake of her own head. She turned and walked away, feeling his eyes on her once more as she left the building. Only when she'd disappeared through the doors did Damon turn back to Stefan.

"She single?" he asked. "Not that it matters if she's not."

"Leave her alone," Stefan told him in an undertone. "She's a good person."

"And I'm not?" Damon replied.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Stefan asked.

"Nah," Damon said. A leggy blond passed by and gave him a suggestive look. "I'd rather live up to your expectations." With that, he left in pursuit of the blond. Stefan watched him go, blowing out a breath to keep his temper under control. He reminded himself that it was Damon. He'd be gone in a few days. Possibly even by morning.

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><p><strong>So? What did you think? I have a number of updates already written out to post over the course of the next several days. I'd love to know what you thought of chapter one!<strong>


	2. Quiet

**Thank you all so much for the welcome! I have a lot of this story written out, so I hope to update every couple of days or so. **

**One thing I meant to mention in my first update - I was born and raised in the very same place the fictitious Mystic Falls appears on a map and still live near there. So as you read my updates, a number of "real" places - restaurants, roads, landmarks, etc. - will appear. I got pretty excited when that locator spell showed the location of Mystic Falls! **

**Thanks again for your support - I hope you like this one as well! (and forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes as I'm not working with a beta - this is purely for fun. :))**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

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><p>It was quiet.<p>

Quiet was the only way Damon liked the Salvatore Boarding House. He could barely remember it before, when it was full of love and laughter. Him with his parents. Family dinners and extravagant holiday celebrations. Quiet nights spent reading by the fireplace. And then Stefan had come into the world the same night his mother had left it and he'd been forced into the shadows, outshined by his little brother in every way.

He hated being back here. He hated that he felt obligated to return, to attend his father's funeral and offer pseudo support to his brother who was heartbroken over their father's death, no matter how expected it had been. He had left this place in his past for a reason.

He would have left the second the repass was over if it were up to him. But because Giuseppe Salvatore had to get in one last laugh from the grave, he was somehow the executor of the estate and had to stick around for a meeting with the family lawyer for a reading of the will that for one reason or another, couldn't take place for another two weeks. Not that there would be much to it. Stefan would get everything, he would go back to New York and life would go back to normal. He didn't need a crusty old lawyer to read a piece of paper to tell him that.

He swirled the whiskey in his snifter. The absentminded gesture reminded him of a certain brunette at his father's repass, standing near the bar looking bored. He remembered her from his childhood. Elena Gilbert was hard to forget. Even as a youngster, she was the darling of Mystic Falls, daughter of the beloved Miranda and Grayson Gilbert, star student, captain of the cheerleading squad. He was pretty sure he'd heard she was Miss Mystic Falls at some point too, a nugget of information he'd picked up on one of his quick, obligatory trips home.

Her beauty had pulled him in, but it was her wit that had kept his attention. Women didn't turn him down. The occasional one tried, of course, although they were far and few between. He knew how to use his words to get what he wanted, both in his personal life and his career, and he had thought Elena would be easy to sweet talk into his bed, given her small town upbringing. He hadn't expected her fiery response and he was admittedly intrigued.

The quiet was broken by the hushed sounds of his brother and the Brit returning him. They had stayed at the repass far longer than he had. He hadn't been able to take the fake sympathy or the clear adoration virtually the entire town had for his younger brother. Not that it surprised him. Stefan was always the favorite. He'd grown tired of the innocent questions about what he was doing with his life these days, aware that those asking didn't actually care. They had only been looking for details about the long lost Salvatore son or else laying on their fake condolences thick.

Mystic Falls hadn't changed. That's what he had taken away from his father's death and subsequent funeral. It still looked the same. The people were the same, just older. The founding families – his included – still controlled everything, from the town council to the economy. People still gossiped and whispered amongst themselves. He was still given a wide berth.

He hated this place. The town, the house, all of it. He had intended to get on a plane and head back to New York first thing in the morning, but Chester, the family lawyer, had other plans. Apparently being the executor meant he had to oversee the Salvatore sawmill in the interim, pay bills and tie up whatever loose ends his father had left behind. It made him all that more bitter that Giuseppe was managing to control his life from the grave. He chose to focus on that as opposed to the fact that he felt very little sorry over his father's death. If he thought about how he hadn't shed so much as a tear, he would start feeling guilty. And guilt was one of the last emotions he ever let himself feel. Guilt caused more trouble than it was worth.

He turned up his glass to empty it and the whiskey burned as it went down his throat. He was stuck in Mystic Falls for the next couple of weeks, whether he liked it or not. Gazing into the empty fireplace, he decided to make it a little more interesting than the vanilla blond he'd invited into the coat closet following Elena's rejection.

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><p>Elena's fingers flew across the keyboard, her words coming faster than she could type. She paused from time to time only to take drags from her latte and save her work. She was in a zone, oblivious to those in the coffee shop around her, meeting with friends or, like her, attempting to get some work done. She was so into her work and the words unfolding in front of her that she didn't notice the shadow fall across her table.<p>

"This seat taken?" She gasped, started by the interruption, and looked up just as Damon Salvatore lowered himself into the empty chair across from her without waiting for her response.

"Damon," she said by way of greeting. Her tone was even. She hadn't forgotten his blatantly suggestive behavior at the repass two days earlier.

"Elena," he replied as though he didn't have a care in the world. And, Elena guessed, he probably didn't, given his overly large ego. He helped himself to the sugar and creamer on the table, adding three packets of sugar and a dash of milk. "Am I disturbing you?" He stirred his coffee, his eyes now on Elena.

"I'm working," she told him.

"You're really bad at questions," he replied.

"I'm on a deadline." Elena gave him a pointed look before turning her attention back to her work.

"A deadline?" he inquired.

"A deadline," Elena confirmed. She went back to her work, her fingers moving a bit slower over the keys as she tried to regain her train of thought.

"Forget questions. You're flat out bad at stringing together sentences." Elena sighed and stopped typing again. She fixed her eyes on Damon.

"Hello, Damon, it's nice to see you again. I'm terribly busy right now. You see, I have a job and part of that job is to meet editorial guidelines. My piece is due to the editor by six o'clock tonight and it's already half past three. So forgive me for saying that yes, you are disturbing me." The smirk on Damon's face grew wider as he raised his hands to give Elena a short, muted round of applause.

"She speaks," he said. He leaned on the table, a curious expression on his face. Elena tried not to think about how attractive he was or how blue his eyes were – or how they seemed to be solely focused on her. She gave the slightest shake of her head and went back to work.

"I thought you'd be on a red eye to New York as soon as the repass wound down," she said.

"Yeah, well, Giuseppe has a sense of humor. I'm stuck here for a couple of weeks."

Elena remembered then that Stefan had told them the same evening Giuseppe took his last breath that Damon had been named the executor of the estate following his death. Stefan had been oddly okay with, a fact she, Caroline and Bonnie had discussed when he'd left to meet the corner. With Damon virtually out of the picture, they didn't understand why Stefan wasn't placed in charge of the Salvatore estate and its assets.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she mentioned.

"I live in New York," Damon reminded her. "It's the greatest city in the world. Getting stuck here? Not exactly what I had planned."

"New York is just a city," Elena said with a shrug. She resumed typing once more.

"Just a city? Have you ever been there? It's far from 'just a city.'"

"I've been there," Elena confirmed. "And I'd tell you all about it, including the location of my favorite sushi place, if it weren't for this whole being on a deadline thing." Damon opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Elena made a face at the obnoxious rap song about money to blow that was earning Damon dirty looks from the nearby tables.

"Talk to me," Damon said by way of greeting. Elena watched as he transitioned from arrogant playboy to hardnosed businessman. His mouth slowly fell from a smirk to an ever deepening frown as he listened. He shook his head. "No. Add a zero onto that figure and call me in the morning." He hung up, dropped his phone and picked up his coffee all in one move. "Now where were we?"

"Does being an ass always get you what you want?" Elena asked, sparing him a glance.

"Usually," he confirmed. "The few times I don't get what I want I end up with a suitable compromise."

Elena shook his head but didn't say anything. To her surprise, Damon didn't say anything either. Instead, he picked up his phone and started scrolling through emails, tapping out replies to those that warranted it, all while his phone continuously chimed with new messages. He sipped his coffee, letting Elena work in peace, if peace could be called trying not to glance at him every so often. A quarter of an hour passed before his phone rang again.

"Change your mind?" he answered. He stood then, draining the last of his coffee as he went. "Bye, Elena," he mouthed, giving her a smirk and a wink before he turned and walked out of the coffee shop, already negotiating with whoever was on the phone as he went. It took until the door shut behind him and he disappeared around the corner of the shop for Elena to realize she was holding her breath.

"What did Damon Salvatore want?" Bonnie asked, dropping into the once again vacant seat at her table.

"Bonnie? When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago," Bonnie said with a shrug. "You were engrossed in something, whether that was your writing or Damon is yet to be determined, so you didn't see me walk in."

"I was engrossed in my writing," she said. "Damon invited himself to join me and proceeded to get on my last nerve for the half hour or so he sat there."

"He makes me uneasy," Bonnie said. "But I'm not sure if it's in a good or bad way."

"I know what you mean," Elena said. Bonnie smiled at her, a smile Elena recognized all too well. "What?"

"You should go out with him," she said. "He's gorgeous. And only passing through. Have a fling, Elena. Walk on the wild side, so to speak."

"I'm sorry. I thought I was talking to Bonnie. But you sound an awful lot like Caroline." It wasn't that Bonnie never gave unwarranted advice on Elena's love life, nonexistent or otherwise. She just usually wasn't so blunt. Bonnie chuckled.

"I'm just trying to get you to see the opportunity in front of you," she said. "And to get you back in the dating pool."

"Back in?" Elena asked. "You make it sound like I was ever in the dating pool around here to begin with."

"Which is my point," Bonnie said. "With the exception of a few innocent dinners with Matt Donovan, you haven't been on a date since you moved back. It couldn't hurt to have a little fun. Or a lot of fun, given that Damon Salvatore clearly knows what he's doing."

"When I do go on a date with someone, it won't be Damon," Elena told her best friend.

"Fine," Bonnie said, raising her hands in a gesture of peace. "This is where I defer from Caroline because I'm letting it go. Even if I think you should give it a shot, have some fun. But I do need to get going. Jeremy is waiting for me and I know you have work to do."

"I do," Elena confirmed. "I'll see you later."

Elena continued working following Bonnie's departure, but her mind kept drifting to blue eyes and clever smirks. There was something about him that caught her attention. Something besides his drop dead gorgeous good looks. It was like something deep inside her told her she had known him before, not just during her childhood but in another life. Even if she knew he wasn't the kind of guy for her, she couldn't quite shake him, even after just two brief conversations.

Pushing thoughts of Damon as far from the front of her mind as she could, she refocused completely on her work, the words to an obnoxious rap song stuck in her head.

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><p><strong>Let me know what you think!<strong>


	3. Faulkner

**First, my apologies for accidentally uploading the wrong document for chapter 2 - I fixed it pretty quickly, but a few of you may have gotten a repeat of chapter one! **

**Thank you all 100 times over for your feedback and taking the time to read and review - I appreciate it so very much!**

**Two things - last chapter I mentioned in the AN that I grew up where the fictitious Mystic Falls is on a map. One of the things I love about this area is all the wineries and breweries - they're _everywhere. _And Damon enjoys them too. Also, I'm a huge literature buff, particularly of the Southern Renaissance. That should explain an exchange included in this chapter. **

**Happy Reading!**

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><p>Damon lounged comfortably on the soft leather couch, a book in one hand, a locally brewed beer in the other. While Mystic Falls didn't have much to offer him in the way of nightlife, he did have to appreciate the density of breweries and wineries in the town and surrounding areas. He was just starting another chapter when he heard the front door open and close. He groaned inwardly.<p>

"Hey," Stefan greeted, entering the room dressed in navy blue scrubs, his hospital ID clipped to his chest pocket.

"Dr. McDreamy," Damon replied, eyes still trained on his book. Stefan ignored him as he passed through the room and into the kitchen. Much to Damon's dismay, he returned a few minutes later with a beer of his own.

"_Gone With The Wind?" _he asked as he took a seat in an armchair and propped his feet on the coffee table. "Again?"

"Rhett Butler is a bad ass," Damon answered. "My spirit animal."

"Some role model," Stefan replied before taking a swig of his beer. Damon looked over at him.

"Don't you have a place in Charlottesville?" he asked. "And if you do, why aren't you there?"

"I do," Stefan confirmed. "And maybe I wanted to hang out with my big brother."

"Lies," Damon said, turning back to his book. Stefan chuckled though not from humor.

"What'd you get into today?" he asked.

"Oh, you know, sealed an endorsement deal with a shoe company, had some coffee. Now I'm reading and drinking because there's nothing else to do in this town," Damon answered. "You?"

"Set a few broken bones, treated a kid with a stomach virus, lost a 50 year old man who fell seven stories on a construction site."

"I definitely had the better day," Damon said, turning back to his book.

"I'll give you that," Stefan agreed. He took another long drag from his beer, contemplating his brother who was working hard to ignore him. "How long are you planning to stick around?" he finally asked.

"Until Chester can read the will and I sign whatever papers I need to sign. You'll get everything Giuseppe Salvatore owned, I'll get on a plane back to New York, and we'll all get on with our lives."

"Dad made you the executor for a reason," Stefan told him.

"I'm sure he did," Damon agreed. "I'm just waiting for the punch line." Stefan sighed and stood up.

"Dad loved you," he told Damon. "Regardless of what you think you know about him." He left the room, leaving Damon to his thoughts, his beer and his book.

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><p>The next night, Damon found himself at Mystic Grill, pulled up to the bar with a burger platter and a tumbler of coke and rum. He made small talk somewhat against his will, but figured it beat another night of sitting in a big, empty house re-reading the same old book. He absentmindedly texted with one of his clients, assuring the rookie NBA player an extramarital affair wouldn't go public. The door to the restaurant opened, causing the bell above the door to chime. Damon glanced in its direction out of instinct and was rewarded with Elena – and a rather large group of friends – walking through it. He smirked and turned back to his meal.<p>

Elena and her group filled an empty table near the jukebox, laughing and talking. Damon kept his back to them, flirting with the bartender, a busty redhead he vaguely remembered from his school days, to give him something to do. She'd just slipped him her number on a cocktail napkin when Elena appeared at his elbow.

"Hey, Emmy, glass of Riesling?" The redhead nodded, gave Damon a sultry smirk, and crossed to the other side of the bar to pour Elena's glass.

"Evening, Elena," Damon greeted.

"Damon," Elena replied. She spied the cocktail napkin. "You work quick."

"Details," he said. He balled up the cocktail napkin and tossed it towards a nearby trashcan, careful to make sure Emmy didn't see him do it as he planned on using the place as his drinking grounds until he could return to New York.

"You get your way yesterday?" she asked. Emmy brought her glass of wine, giving her a distasteful look in the process before turning to help another customer. Elena rolled her eyes and picked up her glass, making Damon chuckle.

"Like I told you, I always get my way," he said. "I can be very persuasive."

"I'm sure you can," Elena replied. "Bye, Damon." She returned to his friends, Damon openly watching her walk away, much to the delight of her blond friend. He winked, grinned at her bulging eyes and turned back to his meal. He was nearly done with his meal when he heard his name.

"Damon Salvatore." Damon put down what was left of his burger and wiped his hands on a napkin as he turned towards the still familiar voice, even though he hadn't heard it in years.

"Alaric Saltzman," he replied. He offered his hand. "Long time, no see," he said as the two old friends shook hands.

"Been a while," Alaric agreed. He took a seat on the stool next to Damon and was delivered a drink almost as soon as he sat down. "I'm sorry to hear about your father's passing. Giuseppe was a good man."

"Two things people keep telling me," Damon replied. He drained his rum and signaled for another one. "Were you at the funeral? It was the social event of the year, I'm told. A member of a founding family dying and all."

"Still a dick, I see," Ric said. "But no, I wasn't at the funeral. I was on a two week field trip to Europe with my AP European History class. My wife told me about his passing, but I couldn't up and leave a bunch of high school seniors to roam the streets of Barcelona."

"I'm not sure what part of that statement is less believable," Damon said. "The wife part, the teacher part or the unwillingness to let a bunch of horny teenagers have their fun." Ric chuckled.

"I am, in fact, married," he said. "To Jenna Sommers – now Saltzman. And we lead a very boring life where I teach high school history, Jenna sells real estate and we try to keep the youth of Mystic Falls from knowing what hell raisers we were back in the day."

"Jenna Sommers – isn't she Elena Gilbert's aunt?"

"She is," Ric confirmed. He eyed Damon. He hadn't seen or talked to his former best friend in years, but his reputation still managed to proceed him. "Why?" Damon shook his head in a dismissive fashion.

"No reason. She was at the funeral, said hello. And she's over there with her friends." He jerked his head towards Elena's group.

"She's a good kid," Ric said, shooting his pseudo niece a fond look. "Although I guess she's not really a kid anymore. What have you been up to these last several years?"

The night progressed, Damon and Ric catching up at the bar, Elena and her friends enjoying their dinner, sticking around to talk and laugh, something they didn't get to do as often as they used to given that they were adults now, with grown up responsibilities. It was nearing ten o'clock when Ric stood to leave.

"I should get going," he said. "Jenna had an open house tonight and her text messages have already told me she's home and I'm not. How long are you in town?"

"A couple weeks," Damon said. He reached for his wallet, pulled out a business card and handed it to Ric. "We should meet here to drink again."

"Deal," Ric said, glancing at the black and silver embossed card before tucking it into his jeans. "Good seeing you, Damon."

Damon stuck around for a while longer, nursing the last of his drink and closing out his tab. His ears perked up when he heard Elena start issuing her goodbyes to her friends who were still going strong. The night had taken the turn he'd been hoping for, the turn he'd been sticking around for.

"You walked here, didn't you?" one of group – Matt, if he remembered correctly – asked Elena.

"Yeah, I did," Elena confirmed. She reached to hug her brother who had an arm draped around Bonnie Bennett, something that gave Damon pause for the unexpected factor.

"If you can wait a few more minutes, Bonnie and I will drive you home," Jeremy said, hugging his sister with one arm.

"Or we can," he heard Caroline offer. "You shouldn't walk home by yourself."

"You guys stay. I'll be fine," Elena told them as she gathered her bag. "It's Mystic Falls, not New York City." There were more protests, more offers to drive Elena home or else walk with her, but she turned them down and bid them goodbye, walking out of the restaurant alone, just as Damon had hoped. He signed his credit card receipt with a flourish and hurried out the door after her. He stopped just outside the door and looked both ways, spying her just before she reached the corner to turn out of sight.

"Elena!" She stopped and turned at the sound of his voice. He jogged lightly to catch up with her. "Hey," he said when he reached her.

"Hey yourself," she replied. "Any reason you're chasing me down a sidewalk at ten o'clock at night?"

"I couldn't help but overhear that you were planning to walk yourself home," he said. "I'm here to be your knight in shining armor. Except instead of white horse, I have a '69 Camaro."

"If you overheard that, you also overhead me tell my friends repeatedly that I didn't need a ride," Elena said.

"I did overhear that," he confirmed. "Which is why I have a Plan B."

"Is this more of the 'I always get what I want' thing?" Elena countered.

"Yes. I'm walking you home." There was finality in Damon's voice. Elena decided it wasn't worth arguing.

"You know what? Fine. Walk me home. I'm too tired to argue." They settled into an easy pace.

"So did you meet that deadline?" Damon asked.

"I did."

"I'm guessing you're a writer of some sort?"

"Of some sort," Elena confirmed. "I freelance for a few publications, stuff like that."

"Write anything I might have read?"

"Doubt it. Unless you're into the whimsical stories that come from small town life."

"Any of those published in _Sports Illustrated?_ Or maybe _Playboy?" _Elena snorted.

"No," she said.

"Then no, probably nothing I've read." He grinned at Elena's light chuckle.

"What do you do?" she asked.

"What do you think I do?" Damon countered.

"Sweet talk people into giving you money," Elena answered easily, drawing a chuckle out of Damon this time.

"Not far from the truth," he confirmed. "I'm a sports agent."

"Which means you negotiate for people?"

"Not just people. The best athletes in the pro ranks. I negotiate their contracts, endorsement deals, get them press coverage, clean up the messes they make."

"Sounds like you're a babysitter."

"Some days," Damon agreed. "But the job has its perks."

"I'm guessing you were negotiating yesterday at the coffee shop?"

"Negotiating, making a quick $50,000, however you want to look at it. I've got a rookie football player who needs to distance himself from some leftover NCAA allegations from his college days, something about accepting bribes. I had to pull some strings, but I got him an endorsement deal with a shoe company. Multimedia campaigns, charity events – should clear up those pesky rumors."

"Because you don't condone bribery, I'm sure," Elena said, giving him a knowing look as they walked.

"He's a kid from the wrong side of the tracks, didn't have much growing up – material or family-wise. He saw a way to make some money and he took it. I can't fault the guy for wanting a better life."

Elena didn't reply but gazed at Damon thoughtfully. There was something about the tone of his voice as he talked about whoever the young football player was that made her think he might actually have a heart under the cool exterior he presented. Uncomfortable with the contemplative look Elena was giving him, he decided to change the subject.

"You're a writer which means you likely read. What's your favorite book?"

"_The Sound And The Fury," _Elena answered easily. Damon made a face.

"That's a terrible book," he said. Elena scoffed.

"No, it's not," she countered. "It's an incredible well-written story about the corruption of Southern aristocratic values."

"Quentin Compson is an idealistic psycho whose obsession with his sister's purity drives him to jumping off a bridge," Damon argued. "Anyone who has ever read that book should pat themselves on the back for not committing suicide along with him."

"You don't understand Faulkner," Elena said. "Which makes sense. His work isn't for everyone."

"Oh contraire," Damon said. "I've read just about everything Faulkner has written. _As I Lay Dying _is my second favorite book."

"Oh really? Let me guess. You fancy yourself a Jewel?"

"Hardly," Damon said with a scoff of his own. "More like Daryl."

"Daryl is insane. You just told me how awful _The Sound And The Fury _is because of Quentin Compson's mental issues."

"Daryl is far from insane. In fact, he's the only sane member of the Bundren family. Maybe sane to a fault, but sane all the same."

"Does that make you the only sane Salvatore then?" Damon grinned at Elena.

"Now you're catching on," he said. She laughed in earnest then, drawing a bigger smile out of Damon.

They walked along in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts about the other. Damon had never met someone who could match his critique of classic literature, particular that from the Southern Renaissance. Her beauty, coupled with her brains and apparent aversion to his charms, attracted him to her all the more. Elena couldn't believe Damon Salvatore, of all people, was walking her to her door, making a valid and knowledgeable argument for his views on Faulkner. Of all the things she'd associated with Damon, bookworm wasn't one of them and yet she could tell he'd done more than skim the cliff notes lifted from some website.

"You said _As I Lay Dying _is your second favorite book," she said as they rounded the corner to her house. "What's your favorite?"

"Not a chance in hell I'm telling you that," Damon replied. Elena smirked.

"Must be something embarrassing," she observed. "_Twilight, _maybe? _50 Shades of Gray?" _

"Sparkling vampires and mommy porn aren't up to my standards," he said. They stopped at the gate at the end of Elena's sidewalk. "And we've arrived at Casa de Gilbert." Elena glanced at her house, wondering why the fifteen minute walk had seemed so short. "Tell me, how are the esteemed Dr. and Mrs. Gilbert these days?"

"They're dead," Elena said simply, turning her gaze back to Damon just in time to see the surprise register on his face.

"Elena… I'm sorry… I had any idea…," he stammered. Elena shook her head.

"It was a long time ago," she told him. "Car accident my sophomore year of high school. My aunt Jenna took care of me and Jeremy after they were gone."

"I'm sorry," Damon said again with a shake of his head. "How is Gilbert Two? He's with Bonnie Bennett?"

"They got married a couple years ago," Elena confirmed. "He actually played college football himself."

"Did he?" Damon asked. He only had vague memories of Jeremy Gilbert and they were of a scrawny kid with no signs of athletic ability.

"Wide receiver for James Madison University," Elena told him. "Obviously he wasn't good enough to go pro, but he had fun, got a good education on a scholarship."

"Good for him," Damon said, meaning it. He nearly asked how he'd ended up back in Mystic Falls, but stopped himself. He found himself wondering that a lot over the last couple of days, realizing that everyone he had known growing up was still in the small town. There was a great big world out there. He didn't get why they didn't explore it.

"Thanks for walking me home," Elena told him. "You didn't have to, but I appreciate it all the same."

"Couldn't let a pretty girl walk home all alone," Damon said. "Even in small town Mystic falls." Elena just shook her head and turned to walk up the sidewalk.

"Night, Damon," she said.

"Night, Elena." Damon watched as she walked away, a weird sensation fluttering around in his stomach. Before he could talk himself out of it, he called out to her again.

"Have dinner with me."

Elena stopped, halfway up the stairs of her porch, and looked at him.

"What?"

"Have dinner with me," Damon repeated. "Tomorrow. I'll pick you up at seven. Wear something pretty." He could practically see Elena's mind churning a mile a minute on whether to accept. "Just dinner, Elena. We both need to eat. May as well do it together." Slowly, Elena nodded, Bonnie's words from the coffee shop running through her head.

"Okay," she agreed, surprising herself. "Tomorrow at seven." Damon smiled and nodded at her once.

"Tomorrow at seven."

* * *

><p><strong>Oh a date! But what is Damon's motive? And what's up with him and Dr. Stefan? <strong>

**I'd love to hear what you think so far!**


	4. Maya

**I had intended for this to be two chapters, but after your wonderful comments on the last chapter, I decided I _had _to post the date this chapter. Which means its long. But it also has a _lot _of background information. What better way to fill in some back story than first date conversation? **

**The restaurant they go to in this update is one of my local favorites. And Damon ordered one of my favorite side dishes. ;) **

**Thanks so much for reading - I hope you enjoy this one too!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>"You're here again?" Damon asked as he walked into the kitchen the next morning wearing nothing but pajama pants, his hair sticking out in all directions.<p>

"l live here," Stefan replied through a mouthful of waffle.

"No, you live in Charlottesville."

"Well, if that's the argument you want to make, you live in New York and yet, here you are."

"I do live in New York," Damon confirmed. "But it's a hell of a lot farther from here than your 45 minute trek." He poured himself a cup of coffee and located the creamer in the fridge. "And I'd be in New York right now if Giuseppe didn't have such a rip roaring sense of humor."

"There's some waffle batter left if you want one," Stefan replied, ignoring the comment about their father. Damon toasted Stefan with his coffee mug in response. Stefan took another bite of waffle, watching as Damon made a production of stirring cream and sugar into his mug. "Rumor has it you walked Elena Gilbert home from The Grill last night." Damon looked at him over his coffee mug.

"I forgot nothing is a secret around here," he said before taking a dreg from his mug.

"There are plenty of secrets in this town," Stefan said. "They just don't get broadcast in broad daylight."

"Technically, it was dark," Damon pointed out.

"You know what I mean." Damon moved to return the creamer to the fridge and took out several pieces of fruit while he had the door open.

"I wasn't going to let a girl – especially an attractive girl like Elena – walk home alone. Mystic Falls is the perfect setting for a horror movie. It's the kind of place where nothing bad ever happens which means it's one rapist away from being featured on the next episode of Unsolved Mysteries. I saw Elena to her door safely. The end."

"Is it?" Stefan asked. He knew his brother well.

"Well, I am taking her to dinner tonight," Damon said, taking another swig of his coffee. "So there's that."

"Damon," Stefan warned.

"What, is that awkward for you?" Damon replied, feigning interest. "I believe the two of you dated. I'm sure it must sting just a little bit to see her hitting it off with your older, better looking brother."

"Elena is a good person," Stefan replied, once again letting one of Damon's comments go. "She doesn't deserve to be led on."

"And does darling Rebekah know how you're rushing to Elena's defense?"

"Rebekah knows Elena and I are friends. Rebekah and Elena are friends. And Rebekah – who just left a few minutes ago – agrees with me on this. Don't screw with Elena."

"I'm just taking her to dinner," Damon said. "Everyone has to eat sometime."

"Don't lead her on," Stefan warned. "She deserves more."

"More than your screwed up big brother?" Damon challenged, getting the jest of where Stefan was going with his comments.

"Your reputation precedes you, Damon. You did it to yourself."

"Yeah, well, I'm out of here as soon as Chester reads the will. Then you and your bombshell British girlfriend can officially sign your names on the deed of this house and live happily ever after with no inconveniences from me. Although, I will be talking my car back to New York. I'd rather not leave it here. You understand."

"What makes you so sure Dad didn't leave you the house?" Stefan asked. Damon snorted.

"Who else would it go to? You were his favorite, the good son. I was the Salvatore screw up. Dad's last laugh is making me executor so I have to be there to oversee his legacy being handed over to you." Stefan sighed.

"He loved you, Damon. You just chose to believe what you wanted." It was the same sentence he'd been saying often since Damon arrived in Mystic Falls a full day after their father took his last breath.

"And you choose to believe that," Damon countered, using the same response he'd used several times already. He swigged from his coffee again.

"You blame me for Mom dying," Stefan said. It was a comment that had been brewing just under the surface for a long time. "But it wasn't my fault." That was enough for Damon. He had avoided this conversation for 26 years. He wasn't going to have it now.

"You know, I think I'll go out for breakfast," he said, leaving the fruit and waffle batter on the counter along with his nearly empty coffee mug. He turned and started to walk away.

"And don't think I don't see the resemblance between Elena and Katherine," Stefan continued. He knew he was hitting low, acting childish, even, but he wanted to get a rise out of his brother, provoke some kind of emotion besides the apathy he'd been wearing since arriving in Mystic Falls. "The dark hair, dark eyes. They're even the same build. It's eerie, how much they look alike." Damon looked over his shoulder at his younger brother.

"Looks like I have a type," he said evenly. "And little brother? Malice doesn't suit you."

With that, Damon headed upstairs, turned on his shower and stripped off his pajama bottoms. Stepping under the hot spray, he let his thoughts drift.

He hadn't missed the fact that Elena looked remarkably like his exe. As Stefan had so boldly pointed out, they had the same dark hair and eyes, were built similar, petite yet strong. He'd be lying if he said Elena's uncanny resemblance to Katherine hadn't been what first caught his attention. But unlike Katherine, Elena exuded warmth. Her smile, so kind and welcoming in itself, reached her eyes and her laugh was light and earnest. Katherine had been cold and calculating with a sinister smile, her laugh usually forced or at the very least, at someone else's expense.

Katherine certainly couldn't debate literature with him. She preferred to discuss her latest expensive purchase, her next modeling gig. Not that she wasn't intelligent. She was a gifted manipulator, talented at spinning any situation to leave her name free and clear. That was part of what made them such a power couple, her seductive, him ruthless at the negotiating table. They got what they wanted. Until she didn't want it anymore.

Damon shook his head under the shower spray. He couldn't, wouldn't, think about Katherine. Or his brother. Or their dead parents. He was going to get dressed, find some breakfast, avoid his brother and promptly at seven o'clock, he was going to take Elena Gilbert on a date. He'd figure out the rest later.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this looks okay?" Elena asked, studying herself in the full length mirror. "He didn't say where we were going, just to 'wear something pretty.'"<p>

"You look hot," Caroline confirmed.

"I'm not sure hot is a good thing," Elena said, scrutinizing her appearance.

"That's the right dress," Bonnie said from her spot on the bed. "Damon will be eating out of the palm of your hand." Elena made a face.

"I'm not sure that's what I want. He doesn't need incentivizing."

"Have you _seen_ Damon Salvatore?" Caroline asked. She rummaged through the selection of jewelry laying on Elena's bed. "You do, in fact, want that."

"Caroline," Elena chided. "Tyler. Remember him?" Caroline just shrugged.

"I don't know," Bonnie said, picking up a bangle from the pile of jewelry and surveying it. "I have a good feeling about this." Both Caroline and Elena turned to look at her. "Not this one. It's too – plain. Wear the gold pave bracelet." She noticed then that her friends were looking at her. "What?"

"Is this another one of your hunches?" Caroline asked. Bonnie was infamous for her spurts of intuition, gut feelings about people and situations that tended to turn out exactly as she thought they would. It was scary, how accurate her hunches tended to be.

"I just think it's a good thing, Elena going out with Damon," Bonnie said with a shrug. "He's got a bad boy streak and Elena, I love you, but you could use a little danger in your life. You play it too safe."

"Again, you sound more like Caroline than Bonnie right now," Elena said. "I fully expected you to be the rational one and tell me how bad of an idea this is. And yet, you're encouraging me."

"I just want you to have some fun," Bonnie said. "Even if it's with Damon Salvatore."

"What does Stefan think of you going out with his brother?" Caroline asked. "Or does he know?" Elena sat down at her vanity and started to touch up her makeup.

"He knows," Elena confirmed. "Damon told him this morning. He called me this afternoon to ask if I knew what I was getting myself into."

"And do you?" Bonnie asked.

"Nope," Elena admitted. "But like I told Stefan, it's just dinner. And Damon doesn't even live here. He'll be gone back to New York, back to his life as big city sports agent, as soon as he can be. It can't hurt to have dinner with him while he's here."

"Free dinner," Caroline said with an appreciative nod. "I like your style, Elena Gilbert. No expectations." Bonnie didn't say anything. She picked up a pair of earrings and wordlessly passed them to Elena. Her gut told her, loud and clear, that this was going to be anything but just dinner.

* * *

><p>Promptly at seven o'clock, Elena stepped out onto the porch with the intentions of waiting on the swing for Damon, only to find him already parked on the street, leaning against the same blue Camaro she vaguely remembered from her childhood. Instead of puffing on a cigarette like he did in her memories of him, he was merely watching her, his arms crossed over his chest.<p>

Elena paused on the top step, just to take him in. He was wearing black jeans and a midnight blue dress shirt, a casual black sports jacket over it, and black Italian dress shoes. The color of his shirt made his vivid blue eyes stand out even more. She couldn't help but smile at her good fortune. She had no intentions – nor hopes – of anything long term with Damon, but she was certainly going to enjoy looking at him throughout dinner.

Damon felt his heart quicken when Elena stepped out onto her front porch. He'd arrived a few minutes early, mostly because he was bored at home, but also because he was admittedly looking forward to seeing Elena again. He'd intended to wait until seven o'clock, walk to Elena's door, and pick her up like a gentleman, but she had beat him to it. She was appraising him from her spot on the porch, but he didn't care. He was doing the same thing to her. She wore a simple blue sleeveless dress that fit her in all the right places and hit her at a length that showcased her toned legs. Her hair hung in loose waves, a departure from her usual straight locks, and flowed behind her as she descended the stairs and approached him. He pushed himself off his car to greet her, counting his lucky stars that he was the one she was going out with tonight.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," she replied with a timid smile. "You got here early."

"I wanted to make a good impression," he replied smoothly. "You look beautiful, Elena." He felt a sense of accomplishment at the faint blush that crept into her cheeks.

"You cleaned up pretty well yourself," she told him. She looked past him towards his car. "I can't believe you still have that thing. I remember you driving it when I was in middle school." Damon glanced over his shoulder at his car, one of the few material possessions he owned that also contained sentimental value, and shrugged.

"It was my mom's," he explained. "I like to think of her as the coolest chick in town way back when, driving around in this thing." He'd never actually been given the car, but the day he'd turned 16 and got his license, he'd taken the keys from their place on the kitchen key rack and no one, not even his father, had questioned him. He had never quite understood why Giuseppe hadn't intervened. A 16 year old kid didn't have any business driving around in a muscle car. At 32, he still didn't have much business behind the wheel of it.

"She at least had their attention," Elena agreed with another glance at the car.

"You ready to go?" Damon asked.

"I am," Elena confirmed. Damon reached behind him and opened the passenger side door.

"Then your chariot awaits." Elena smiled at him before sliding into the car. It was spotless, the leather seats original, but still like new. It smelled like saddle soap, aftershave and something that was strictly vintage. The scent calmed her as Damon slipped in behind the wheel and cranked up the car. She could feel its power, just from the idling of the engine. It both scared her and thrilled her as she took in how comfortable Damon was behind the wheel.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he pulled away from the curb.

"Charlottesville," he said. "I figured our options were limited in Mystic Falls. I made reservations at a place called Maya. The offensive coordinator for UVA's football team recommended it."

"Offensive coordinator?"

"I'm after one of their seniors. Kid's going to be first round draft pick for sure."

"After him? As in to be his agent?"

"Yep," Damon confirmed. "He's not only a phenomenal athlete, he's also got this good guy thing going on – volunteers at the children's hospital, has a 4.0 in something besides art. He's an agent's dream – a big contract to play pro, endorsement deals, good PR. But that's enough about work. What'd you do today?"

Elena launched into a recap of her day and asked Damon about his as the car rumbled down Highway 29. The 45 minute drive went by in a flash and soon, they were being seated at their table. The restaurant was upscale but not stuffy, the lights dim, but the atmosphere warm. Damon pulled her chair out before seating himself and their waitress appeared almost immediately to fill water goblets and take drink orders. Damon looked at Elena and took a deep breath. There was something he needed to get off his chest before the night went any further.

"Elena, I want to apologize again for last night. About your parents. I didn't know they'd passed. I hope I didn't upset you." Elena gave him a soft smile. He was being genuine, looked anxious now that he had issued his apology.

"It's okay," She assured him, reaching out to touch his hand. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send a surge of electricity through both of them. "It's been a long time, Damon. I miss them every day, but I'm okay." Damon felt a surge of something – admiration, perhaps – at how strong she seemed to be. His own mother had died twenty-six years ago, but her death still caused him a tremendous amount of pain if he let himself think of her more than a brief moment once in a while.

"If you don't mind my asking, how long ago was the accident?"

"Ten years this past May," Elena answered. "Sometimes it feels like yesterday, other times it seems like it was a century ago."

"I know what you mean," Damon said more to himself than to Elena. The waitress reappeared with their drinks and they placed their orders after taking a few moments to browse the menu. "So Alaric is married to your Aunt Jenna?" he asked when the waitress left their table.

"He is," Elena confirmed. She remembered something about Damon then. "You and Ric were best friends, weren't you?" Damon shrugged.

"We were the best friends we knew how to be," he said. "Neither one of us were much on personal relationships, but we both liked fast cars, cigarettes and booze so we bonded." He purposefully left out that they had shared an affinity for loose women as well.

"His high school stories make me laugh," Elena said. "He's such a responsible adult now, teaching history, being a husband and a dad. It's hard to believe him when he talks about drag racing over by Oak Ridge or boxing in the gas station parking lot."

"What'd he tell you about the drag racing?" Damon asked curiously.

"That he won." Damon scoffed.

"Liar," he exclaimed. "I kicked his ass every single time he put his Mustang up against my Camaro."

"I'm going to tell him you said that." Elena's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Please do," Damon told her. "I have a reputation to uphold." Elena rolled her eyes playfully. "He and Jenna have a daughter, right? He was telling me about her at Mystic Grill last night.'

"Ella," Elena confirmed. "She's two and my favorite person in the entire world."

"Beside me," Damon corrected with a grin.

"You're going to have to grow pig tails and wear monogrammed smock dresses before you take that position," she told him seriously.

"I'll see what I can do," Damon replied, making Elena laugh lightly. He decided right then and there that her laughter was the best thing he'd ever heard and made it his goal to hear it as much as possible. "You mentioned at the coffee shop the other day that you'd been to New York. When were you there?" Elena raised an eyebrow slightly, impressed that Damon seemed to remember every detail of their few conversations.

"I actually lived there," she told him. She watched as his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Really?" She nodded her confirmation.

"I went to Columbia for undergrad, then I stayed for a while, working and writing. I've been back in Mystic Falls for about a year."

"You were in New York for the better part of the last decade?" he asked. "You should have looked me up. Granted, it took me until about three years ago to actually commit to one city, but I've been calling New York my home base for a while."

"Stefan told me I should call you a couple of times," Elena told him. "I think he even gave me your number once. I just never got around to it."

"Shame," Damon said with a shake of his head. "We could have done this a whole lot sooner." Elena smiled at him and decided it was her turn to ask the questions.

"How'd you get to be a sports agent?" she asked. Damon took a long swig of his drink, deciding to give her the brief, more PG version of how he'd ended up falling into a career he loved, despite a proper college education to prepare for it.

"Long story short, I was in the wrong place at the right time. A game of pool took a turn, I did some fast talking to get me and a buddy out of a tight spot. A guy that was an executive at a smaller firm overhead and persuaded me to come work for him. I took to it like fish to a water and here I am."

"Do you still work for him?" Damon shook his head.

"We parted ways about six months after I started working for him. Mutually. He was a good guy, just couldn't afford to keep me on. I went to work for one of the top firms in the industry, stayed with them a few years. I left last year to strike out on my own, took most of my clients with me. It keeps me busy, but it's nice, not having to give up part of my earnings to the firm or find someone to sign off on my decisions." Elena saw the passion in his eyes as he talked about his career. She found him all that more attractive.

"You love it," she stated.

"I do," he confirmed, leaning in. "And you, Elena, lied to me." Elena frowned.

"About what?" she asked.

"I asked if you'd written anything I might have read. You said no. But it turns out, I read this great book, _Turning Home, _while on a flight to London for an NFL international game between the Steelers and Vikings." Just as he'd suspected she would, Elena blushed and busied herself with the bread basket that had arrived sometime during their conversation.

"You read that?" she asked timidly.

"Given the 'New York Times bestseller' stamp on the cover, I'd say a lot more people than just me read it."

"It's not that great," Elena said with a shake of her head. Damon reached across the table and mimicked her move from earlier, lightly putting his hand on top of hers.

"Elena, it was fantastic," he said truthfully. "I really enjoyed it. So much so that I borrowed Stefan's copy to read again."

"Thank you," Elena said softly. He had removed his hand, but hers was still on fire from his touch. "Despite my whole 'it's not that great' thing, I really am proud of it. But how did you figure out I'd written a book?"

"Stefan," Damon answered. He looked slightly guilty. "I wanted to read some of those articles you mentioned before tonight and so I asked him if he had any laying around. He turned up a little while later with a couple of magazines and a book with your name on the spine. Although I couldn't help but notice he has a signed copy which means I will be purchasing a copy of my own to have you autograph. Can't let little brother one up me in the literature department." Elena shook her head, but was grinning.

"How'd you end up back in Mystic Falls?" Damon asked. "Not exactly the same vibe as New York."

"It might sound crazy to you, but I missed this place," Elena said. "Its home, you know? I loved New York. It was big, and loud and creative and inspired me. But what family I have is here. My parents are buried here. After a while, New York went from being one big adventure, to one big hassle. After my book did so well, I decided it was time to move back here, reconnect with my old life. We all kept in touch – my family, my friends – but we went our separate ways after high school. Funny, really, how we all ended up back here."

Damon looked at Elena contemplatively. Just as she had called him out on how much he loved his career, he could tell she loved Mystic Falls. It was her home. It triggered something down deep inside him. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was a foreign emotion he added to his shelf of feelings to deal with later.

"Have you ever eaten at that tiny sushi place between Houston and Bleecker in Greenwich Village?" Elena asked.

From there, the conversation flowed, Elena telling Damon about all of her favorite New York haunts, many of which he frequented himself, Damon telling her stories from his travels to various pro sporting events across the country and in a few instances, the world. They talked and ate, Elena teasing Damon for ordering an extra side of the white cheddar grits which he defended by saying he only got proper grits while in the South. Too soon, Damon was paying their bill and they were back in his car heading home. Somewhere along the way, Damon had found her hand in his, their interlocked hands resting on the console between them.

"Stefan must really be glad to have you home," Elena commented.

"More like eager to see me on a plane bound for La Guardia," Damon replied. There was something in his voice that Elena couldn't place, a mixture of tension and disappointment.

"I'm sure that's not the case," Elena said, even though she knew Stefan and Damon didn't have the best relationship. Stefan didn't talk about his brother much, didn't indulge in sharing why their relationship was so strained, but Elena couldn't accept that they didn't care for one another at all. They were family, after all. Brothers.

"Stefan and I lead very different lives," Damon explained. "He's straight laced, always has been. I got in my fair share of trouble growing up – and if I'm being honest, I kept it up once I left here. He and I will never see eye to eye on pretty much anything." Elena nodded and let the topic drop.

"So how long are you planning on being in town?"

She hadn't actually meant to ask the question. She'd gone into the date knowing Damon was essentially just passing through. But it had been a really long time since she'd been as drawn to a member of the opposite sex as she was to Damon. Even as she told herself getting too close was a bad idea, it was like something inside of her – and out of her control – was pushing her towards Damon.

"I don't know, another couple weeks or so," Damon said, his eyes on the road. He couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. It was Wednesday. The reading of the will was set for a week from now and he'd been planning to hop on a plane northbound as soon as it was over. But now, he felt less in a hurry, less compelled to get back to the city. He wasn't sure he liked it, the seemingly waning pull of the city, but the idea of staying in Mystic Falls even a few minutes past his initial departure plan didn't seem like the worst thing in the world at the moment.

The Gilbert house appeared in front of them as they turned a corner. It was dark, but the porch light burned bright. He pulled to a stop in front of her house and cut the engine. He absentmindedly grazed the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Here we are," he said. Elena smiled at him.

"Thank you," she said. "For tonight. I had fun." Damon lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

"Of course," he said. He took just a brief moment to take her in once more before he relinquished himself to the fact that it was time to part ways. "Let me walk you to your door."

"You don't have…"

"Elena," Damon cut her off. "I'm walking you to your door." With that, he was out of the car and pulling open the passenger door for her. He offered his hand and felt both the increasingly familiar electricity shoot through him and a sense of relief that her hand was back in his. He placed her hand at his elbow and walked her down the sidewalk as chivalrously as he knew how to do. At the top of her porch stairs, they turned to one another.

"Thank you again," she said. Damon gave her a soft smile and shook his head slightly.

"Anytime," he told her. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. If she was any other woman, he'd already have her pressed up against her front door, aiming to be invited inside. But Elena commanded his respect, even though he knew she was completely unaware of it.

Elena looked up at him, trying in vain to decipher what he was thinking. She could tell there was more to his story just below the surface and she found herself wanting to know it. She also desperately wanted him to kiss her as her dark eyes landed on his.

"I should be thanking you," he said. "It's been a while since I had the pleasure of spending time with someone not only beautiful, but intelligent and kind as well." He could hardly believe the words that had just came out of his mouth. They were true, but he wasn't one to say things like that, particularly when he planned on sleeping alone in his own bed that night.

"Now who's the liar?" she asked him with a coy smile. He chuckled lightly.

"It's true," he told her. Her hand still in his, he gently pulled her closer and slipped his free arm around her waist. Both of their bodies hummed at their proximity. Before he could stop himself, he leaned down and touched his lips cautiously to hers.

Without warning, fire erupted somewhere deep inside him. He kept himself in check, even as he deepened the kiss and pulled Elena closer, but he knew this kiss was different. Different how, he wasn't sure, but instinct told him Elena Gilbert possessed the power to bring him to his knees. He made himself pull away after a few long moments, determined not to take it as far as he wanted to.

"Goodnight, Elena," he whispered huskily, his forehead resting against hers.

"Goodnight, Damon," she replied, a slight shake in her voice as she tried to catch her breath. Damon placed one last gentle kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

"I'll see you soon," he told her as he stepped way.

"See you soon," Elena echoed. She turned away then, fumbling with her keys as Damon's footsteps descended her porch stairs. She had managed to unlock the door and was just about to let herself in when she heard Damon's voice again.

"_Gone With The Wind." _

Elena turned to see Damon standing halfway down her sidewalk, his hands in the pocket of his sports jacket, the scene reminiscent of the night before when he'd asked her out. "What?"

"_Gone With The Wind," _he repeated. "You asked me last night what my favorite book was. It's _Gone With The Wind." _Elena smiled.

"Really?" she asked. "Why?" Damon shook his head with his infamous smirk in place.

"I'm going to need a second date before I tell you that." Elena's laugh accompanied him as he made his way to his car. Once he was sure she was safely inside – which wasn't until an upstairs light came on – he pulled away from the curve, a wide smile on his face.

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><p><strong>As much as I'm loving writing Damon and Elena's story, I'm also loving writing out Damon and Stefan's. Those two have a lot of issues to work through. <strong>

**I'd love to know what you thought of their first date! Look for the next update - one of my favorite chapters so far - sometime over the weekend!**


	5. Assumptions

**At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I'm amazed at how supportive everyone has been. All the reviews so far are just blowing my mind. I'm writing this between a busy job and lots of Junior League activities, not to mention things like eating, sleeping and playing with my puppy, and without a beta so it means all that much more. Thank you so much for all of your comments and support. It's inspiring. **

**This is a bit of a filler chapter following their date, yet still important. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>"Dish," Caroline demanded. She was sitting on the floor of Elena's living room which had become littered with wedding magazines, invitation samples and photos of cakes immediately upon her arrival. Elena vaguely wondered if Tyler Lockwood knew what he was getting himself into.<p>

"Why are you here again?" Elena asked her, taking in the sight before her.

"You went on a date last night," Caroline informed her. "And not just _a _date – a date with Damon Salvatore. Did you really think I wasn't going to show up on your doorstep begging for details first thing this morning?"

"Before nine o'clock and with a box of wedding plans? I can honestly say that's one scenario I didn't think up."

"Whatever," Caroline said with a wave of her hand. "I'm dying over here, Elena. Where did he take you? What was he like? Oh! Did he kiss you?" She was practically bouncing with excitement. "What do you think of this one?" she added, passing Elena an ivory and gold invitation on thick parchment paper.

"Why don't we wait for Bonnie to get off work? Then I can tell you both," she said. "And I like this one okay, but I liked the one you showed me before I even let you in better."

"It's like, eight forty-five, Elena," Caroline said, taking back the sample and placing it in a pile she had designated for the 'maybes.' "It will be _hours _before Bonnie is done for the day and I can't wait that long." Elena sighed, knowing there was no way she was going to escape Caroline, especially when she had apparently set up shop at her place for the day.

"Fine," she relented, standing from where she'd been sitting in an old but comfortable armchair. "But I'm getting coffee first."

"Bring me some!" Caroline called after her as she exited the room.

Elena padded down the hall to the kitchen. She was still floating from last night, her lips still stinging from the feel of Damon's against them. She hadn't expected to have such a great time, to leave the date wanting to see him again. And yet that was exactly what had happened and the thought scared her. He wasn't the kind of guy she was supposed to like. He was wrong for her in so many ways and yet she couldn't help but wonder, deep down, if he was exactly what she needed. She quickly made two cups of coffee, one to her liking and another to Caroline's, and returned to the living room.

"Does Tyler get a say in any of this stuff?" she asked as she passed Caroline her coffee and returned to her armchair. She curled her legs under her, content to resign herself to girl talk with one of her oldest and closest friends.

"Sort of. I show him what I like and convince him he likes it too. He feels involved, I get my dream wedding. It's a win-win. But we can talk about my wedding plans later. Tell me about this date." Elena couldn't stop the wide grin that spread across her face. Caroline squealed. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "As soon as Bonnie said she had a good feeling, I knew you'd be smiling today! Tell me!"

"He was – surprisingly – sweet," Elena said. Damon's gentlemanly behavior had been one of the things that had thrown her off. She'd expected to fight off his forward advances most the night. "He picked me up right on time – actually got here early. He was waiting when I stepped out onto the porch. He took me to Charlottesville to this place called Maya…"

"I love that place!" Caroline interrupted. "Carol took Tyler and me there a few weeks ago."

"The food was great," Elena agreed. "And I don't know, Damon… He surprised me. I was expecting him to be forward, sleazy, even, given how he acted at the repass and some of the comments he made at the coffee shop. But then he walked me home the other night and started talking about literature and last night, he just seemed so much – more."

"More?" Caroline prompted. Elena took a dreg from her mug.

"There's more to him then the swaggering playboy he shows the world," Elena said, sure of her assumption. She'd had time to think on her suspicions that there was more to Damon just below the surface and was surer than ever that the clipped bad boy demeanor was a carefully crafted cover. "He knows literature. Better than I do, maybe. He absolutely lit up when he talked about his job. He mentioned his mom once or twice too with this sort of wistful tone in is voice. The only time he acted off was when I said something about Stefan being glad he was home." Caroline was grinning like Christmas had come early.

"Elena Gilbert," she stated. "I believe you have a crush on Damon Salvatore."

"I…" Elena was about to argue to the contrary but knew it would only be a lie. "I think I might," she amended, eliciting a squeal of excitement from Caroline. "He's even read my book. He asked Stefan if he had anything I'd written and when Stefan handed him a copy of _Turning Home, _he realized he'd read it."

"I told you not to use 'E.I. Gilbert' as your professional name," Caroline chided. "He would have already known you wrote it the moment he met you."

"Not important," Elena said. "And besides, it's just a crush, for lack of a better word. He lives in New York. His entire life is in New York. This isn't going to go anywhere."

"His brother lives here," Caroline pointed out. "His family home is here, his parents are buried here. Who's to say he's not getting tired of the big city? Kind of like you did."

"He's not getting tired of New York. He loves New York. And I'm pretty sure there's no love lost between him and Stefan. Damon is just here because he has to be. He'll be gone in a couple of weeks, tops." Caroline shook her head, not agreeing.

"We'll see," she said. "Personally, I trust Bonnie." Elena rolled her eyes. "Are you going to see him again?"

"Maybe," Elena said with a shrug. "He mentioned a second date, but I realized after he left that I don't have his number – and I'm pretty sure he doesn't have mine."

"Well, Stefan has both of your numbers," Caroline said brightly. "You're one of Stefan's best friends, Damon is his brother… Use that to your advantage. And help me narrow down these invitation samples to just three before we start putting together the grab bags for the festival." Elena frowned.

"Grab bags?" she asked.

"They're in my car," Caroline said with a coy grin. "Hope you don't have a deadline today."

"I wish I did."

* * *

><p>Damon was back in his favorite spot on the couch, sprawled across it as he blew through the pages of Elena's book, finding it even better than he remembered, although he had a feeling that had something to do with thoughts of his lips against hers. He was so into the story unfolding that he didn't hear Stefan enter the house until he was standing over him at the end of the couch. He look up and took in the dark circles under Stefan's eyes, his messy hair and rumpled scrubs. He was fairly sure there was also a blood stain on his left shoulder.<p>

"You look like hell."

"I've been at the hospital for 36 hours," Stefan answered. "I ended my shift by losing a four year old gunshot victim. I'm allowed to look like hell." He fell into a nearby armchair. "And don't give me crap for being here instead of at my place in Charlottesville. Rebekah and I have plans with Caroline and Tyler later." Damon grinned.

"There's the little brother I like," he said. "Bitchy Stefan is so much more fun than Broody Stefan or Insightful Stefan." Stefan shot him a dirty look and was about to retort with something about Damon's own charm, but his eyes fell on the book Damon was holding.

"You're reading Elena's book?"

"Re-reading Elena's book," Damon clarified. "I read it on a flight to London last year."

"How did your date go?" Stefan asked curiously.

"Well," Damon replied. He wasn't a girl. He wasn't going to gush about how beautiful Elena had looked, how smart she was or how she had made him feel like the luckiest guy in the world, just because she was letting him be seen with her.

"That's all I'm getting?" Stefan pushed.

"It went well. I didn't sleep with her. I plan on seeing her again. There's the abridged version."

"I'm not sure what's more surprising – that you didn't sleep with her or that you plan on seeing her again." A thought occurred to Stefan. "You tried to sleep with her and she turned you down," he guessed. "Now you see her as another conquest." Damon let the book drop to his chest and looked at Stefan with disgust.

"No," he said. "I didn't try to sleep with her. As hard as it may be to believe, I was the perfect gentleman. I took her to dinner, opened doors, pulled out her chair, paid. And then I walked her to her door, gave her a very PG-13 kiss goodnight while a much more adult version played out in my head, and made sure she got inside safely. Give me some credit, brother."

"There's credit and then there's you," Stefan said pointedly. "You plan on seeing her again?"

"What's with the interrogation?" Damon countered "You dated her back in the day. Still hung up on her despite the hot Brit?"

"Her name is Rebekah. Stop referring to her as the 'hot Brit.' As for Elena, she is no more than a good friend," Stefan said honestly. "Which is the cause for the interrogation. I don't want her to get hurt."

"It was one date," Damon said, growing irritated. "Not a marriage proposal."

Deciding he was too tired to deal with Damon right then, Stefan pushed himself out of the chair and started towards the stairs to take a nap before he had to get ready for dinner. "Just be careful with her," he said as he passed by Damon's couch. "She's a good person who deserves to be happy. Don't lead her on."

Damon didn't say anything as Stefan climbed the stairs. He knew Elena was a good person. He wanted to see her again and had even ventured to the coffee shop earlier that day in hopes of running into her as he'd realized he'd forgotten to get her phone number. He just had to figure out how he wasn't going to lead her to on. His life was in New York now. Mystic Falls was his past, now more so than ever.

* * *

><p>It was closing in on 48 hours since he'd last seen Elena.<p>

After spending the day following their date re-reading her book, he had woken up the next morning determined to get in touch with her. He knew how women worked and he was closing in on his allotted time to call her after a date before she would blow him off. He'd intended to con her number out of Stefan, but then he had stumbled in late with Rebekah. The two had clearly had too many spirits with dinner and only had eyes for one another, giving Damon a reason to be proud of his little brother.

He'd resigned himself to getting Elena's number from him in the morning, only to have woken up to find Rebekah fixing herself a to-go cup of coffee in the kitchen. She'd let him know Stefan was already at the hospital, wished him a happy Friday and headed off to work or wherever she'd been going. He'd tuned her out after she'd revealed Stefan's whereabouts, only to realize too late that she likely had Elena's number and he could have gotten it out of her without Stefan's nosey questions.

His only option now was to accidentally on purpose run into Elena. He had managed it twice – at the coffee shop and again at The Grill – so surely it wouldn't be that hard to do again, given that she worked on her own schedule and had outright told him over dinner that the coffee shop was her favorite place to waste away a day of writing. After a shower, he'd left the boarding house on a mission.

He'd started at the coffee shop. He needed his morning cup of coffee and a muffin anyway and so he had dined in, hoping Elena would walk arrive, her laptop bag over her shoulder. She hadn't and so after he'd sat as long as he could without ordering yet another cup of coffee, he'd wandered around the town square, taking a conference call and responding to emails. He managed to lock down a minor endorsement deal for a third basemen for the Washington Nationals while sitting on a park bench, something that amused him as he usually made those things happen from his office or at the very least, a working lunch or from the Bluetooth in his car. It hadn't been all that lucrative, but the guy was better than the team he was on and when he inevitable landed with a better team during free agency next season, that deal would be a jumping off point. Baby steps, as he'd told the third baseman.

For lunch, he'd popped into a deli and then made his way back to the coffee shop for dessert and an afternoon shot of caffeine. There was still no Elena, much to his disappointment. He'd returned to the Boarding House for a while where he'd done some more work, thinking he should have taken his laptop to the coffee shop and made like Elena for the day. When it was an acceptable time for dinner, he headed to The Grill where he not only didn't see Elena, he didn't see anyone that he knew well enough to ask for her phone number.

Which is why, at nearly nine o'clock at night, he was standing on Elena's porch, knocking on her door. He hadn't exactly wanted to turn up out of the blue, but, judging solely on his previous experience with women, if he wanted any chance at a second date, he needed to make contact sooner rather than later. If this was a romantic comedy or a Nichols Sparks movie, this would should count as a grand gesture. He was thinking up a good opening line when the door swung open. He opened his mouth, ready to say the first thing that came to mind, but shut it quickly. Alaric standing in front of him instead of Elena.

"Ric," he said, confused. He'd expected Elena as it was, but Alaric would classify as one of the last people he'd expect to open the door.

"Damon," Alaric greeted, equally confused as to why Damon Salvatore was on his doorstep so late. "What brings you by?"

"Who is it?" came a voice. A moment later, Jenna appeared behind Alaric. "Damon! Hi. What a surprise."

"Hello, Jenna," he replied. She was smiling, but he wasn't blind to the suspicious look she had in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to say hello at your father's funeral," she said. "I was able to speak to Stefan, but ty daughter was getting cranky so we left once the service was over." Damon held up a hand and shook his head.

"Don't apologize," he said. "Thanks for being there." He felt proud of himself for being polite instead of making a sarcastic comment about his dead father. "I'm sorry to stop by so late, but I was looking for Elena." Alaric and Jenna exchanged looks.

"She's probably at home," Jenna said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Damon furrowed his brow.

"Home?" he repeated. "I thought this was her home." Alaric grinned, connecting the dots faster than his wife and certainly faster than Damon who was operating solely on assumption.

"Elena lives out at the lake," he explained. "Her parents had a house out there. When she moved back from New York, she chose the, to quote, 'peace, tranquility and mountain views' of the lake. But since it's an hour or so out, she stays here fairly often."

"Oh," Damon said, feeling foolish. "I just assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say about people who assume…," Ric said, his grin growing in amusement.

"Aren't you a comedian," Damon grumbled.

"I'll let her know you stopped by," Jenna said with a kind smile that still didn't match her eyes. Damon nodded his thanks, just as the sound of a child crying filtered down the stairs. Jenna and Alaric both sighed. "I've got her," Jenna said, already turning away from the door. "Kid battles sleep like it's the final round of the Ultimate Fighting Championships. Good seeing you, Damon."

"I hope I didn't wake her," Damon said. Alaric shook his head.

"Nah. Like Jenna said, Ella's the master at fighting sleep. It's impressive, really. We've been taking turns putting her back in bed for the last two hours. The good news is, she's crying. Crying usually means she's minutes away from passing out."

"Parenthood," Damon said with a shrug, even though it was something he couldn't relate to. "I should get going. Sorry again for stopping by so late. If you could make sure Jenna follows up on that whole telling Elena I stopped by thing…" Alaric stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him.

"Jenna will conveniently forget," he told Damon. "Seems she remembers you from our teenage days."

"And doesn't want me anywhere near her niece," Damon finished. "Not like I've never heard that before." Alaric chuckled as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked the screen.

"I'm going to guess you don't have Elena's phone number if you're showing up on doorsteps at nine o'clock at night."

"Guilty," Damon admitted. His phone chimed in his pocket. He'd planned to ignore it for the moment, but Alaric nodded towards him.

"Might want to check that," he said. With a raised eyebrow at Alaric, he pulled out his phone to find a new text message from a Virginia number. It contained a phone number. "I saved your number from that fancy business card you gave me. I've been meaning to call you about another round of drinks but haven't had a chance."

"Ric, my friend, assuming this is actually Elena's phone number, the first round – maybe even the first three – is on me," Damon said. He pocketed the phone and clapped Alaric on the shoulder.

"I assure you it's actually her number," Ric said. "Don't make me regret giving you that."

"I won't make a promise I can't keep, but I'll see what I can do," Damon replied. "Let's get that drink soon."

"Soon," Alaric confirmed. "Good seeing you, Damon. Even if you were looking for my niece." With a salute and a smirk, Damon made his way back down the sidewalk, removing his phone as he went. He perched on the hood of his car and before he could talk himself out of it, opened Ric's text message and tapped Elena's phone number to call her. She answered after three rings.

"Hello?"

"I'll have you know I spent my entire day trying to accidentally on purpose run into you all over Mystic Falls," he said into the phone. "In a desperate move, I knocked on the door of your house a few short minutes ago, only to be greeted by the Saltzman family and learn that you actually live in the middle of nowhere." Elena laughed on her end of the phone.

"You were trying to run into me?" she asked.

"You see, it seems I forgot to get your phone number the other night. I was too busy being captivated by your charms to think of such mundane things."

"It seems you were successful in acquiring it."

"I now owe Ric round of bourbon, but yes, I was successful. He even gave it to me out of the goodness of his heart."

"Sure you didn't trick it out of him?" Elena asked. "Hypnotize him or threaten him with telling the whole town that his drag racing stories are all built on lies?"

"Those stories aren't so much based on lies as they are twisted in fact," Damon said. "But no, I didn't trick him. Thanks for the drag racing idea though. I'm going to keep that one in my back pocket, just in case." Elena laughed again, causing him to smile.

"Well, you do always get what you want," she said, teasing him.

"I do," he confirmed. "Which is why I'm calling. I want to see you." There was a pause on Elena's end and just as Damon prepared to backpedal, realizing his comment was more suggestive than what would fly with Elena, she replied.

"Do you run?" she asked. For the second time in ten minutes, Damon scrunched his face up in confusion.

"Do I run?" he repeated.

"Yeah, you know – run, jog, get in your cardio, whatever you New Yorkers call it. You seem to be in pretty good shape so I'm assuming you work out."

"But Elena, you haven't seen me without a shirt on. How would you know what's underneath?"

"Ha ha," Elena said. "Seriously, do you run?"

"Turns out I do," Damon confirmed. "Usually through Central Park, but I've had to make do with the treadmill in the boarding house's basement as of late."

"Meet me tomorrow at the south entrance of the McIntire Greenway. Be there at 6AM sharp, or I'm leaving without you."

"6AM?" Damon repeated. "That's not even a real time." He'd seen 6AM plenty of times, had caught many an early flight. But he couldn't recall the last time he'd seen it from any other angle than still being up from the night before.

"It is a very real time and it is the time I'll be going for my morning run," Elena told him. "Be there or be square."

"That's the trail out by Hickory Creek, right?" He vaguely remember seeing a sign when he was driving in from the airport.

"One in the same," Elena confirmed. Damon did the math and realized he'd have to leave his house by no later than 5:30 to make it on time. Then another thought struck him.

"Elena, you don't run that trail by yourself do you?"

"All the time," she said. "And spare me the lecture about running through the woods by myself at the break of day. Ric, Jenna, Jeremy and pretty much all of my friends have beat you to it – more than once. I have pepper spray and I took a self-defense class."

"You shouldn't be running through the woods by yourself," Damon said anyway. "It's not only dangerous, it's dumb. But don't worry. You won't be by yourself tomorrow because I'll be with you."

"If you can keep up," Elena quipped.

"Oh I can keep up," Damon promised. "It's you I'm worried about."

"A wooded trail is very different from a treadmill or even Central Park. You're the one that should be worried." Damon just chuckled. "I'm going to turn in if I'm going to be outrunning you so early in the morning. I'll see you tomorrow – if you make it."

"I'll be there," Damon confirmed. "Get your rest, Elena. You're going to need it."

* * *

><p><strong>I think you'll really love the next couple of updates. Lots of Damon and Elena. And by proxy, lots of attraction. <strong>

**Let me know what you think!**


	6. Carnival

**This Valentine's Day, I give you the longest update to date! I'm having so much fun writing out this version of Elena and Damon's story. Even the not so rosy parts... But I think you'll like this one. I sure do! **

**Thank you so much for reading. I'm writing for fun and the fact that so many of you are enjoying it blows my mind. Imagine my surprise when I logged in and saw so many reviews for the last chapter. Mind blowing for sure! **

**Fun fact - I took one of my favorite greenways and one of my favorite hiking trails and meddled them together for the first part of this update. I have very vivid pictures in my head, hence all the details. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

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><p>He considered it a personal victory when he arrived at the small parking lot at the greenway's entrance approximately five minutes before six. He had set his alarm for five to allow for a couple punches of the snooze button, but had hopped out of bed almost as soon as his alarm sounded. He would deny it if anyone asked, but he was sure the fact that he was looking forward to seeing Elena had a lot to do with why he'd forgone the snooze button in favor of starting his day. A small, blue SUV was already in the lot and a moment after he pulled into a parking spot, Elena got out of it.<p>

"You're early," she greeted.

"Rest assured, I'm just as shocked as you are," he replied. His eyes raked over her body. She was wearing running tights and a light zip up jacket, her hair in a high ponytail. She didn't wear a stitch of makeup. He couldn't think of a time where he'd seen a woman look as beautiful as she did right then. She bent her leg at the knee and reached behind her to grab her ankle to stretch her quads.

"You should stretch," she directed.

"Yes, boss," Damon said with a mock salute, mimicking her. As he did so, he took in their surroundings. Their vehicles were the only ones in the lot. The trail started a few feet from where Elena had parked and disappeared into the woods, trees lining each side of it heavily. He could hear a creek somewhere nearby. It was remote and isolated and he didn't like it.

"We're going to have a serious talk about you running out here by yourself," he informed Elena. She rolled her eyes as she stretched her legs.

"I told you, I've had this lecture. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"You're what? 5'4" and a 100 pounds soaking wet? Forget a crazed hiker looking for a victim. You'd make a decent meal for a mountain lion."

"You're overreacting," Elena told him. She moved to stretch her arms out.

"You have no regards for your personal safety," Damon countered, pulling his arm across his chest as he stretched his shoulders.

"Agree to disagree," Elena said, letting her arm fall to her side. "You ready?"

"Ladies first," Damon said, motioning towards the trail opening. Elena gave him a brief nod and started off at a light job. Damon fell in beside her, letting her set the pace. They didn't talk as they transitioned from a slow jog to a brisker pace, following along the trail that seemed to grow more beautiful with each turn, particularly when there was a view of the creek.

They clocked a mile and then another. By the third one, Damon was starting to wonder just how far Elena planned to run. He'd thought he was in good shape – better than good, even – but as the trail twisted and turned, climbed upwards and then down, he started to second guess just how good his morning runs were doing him. His legs were burning and his lungs were starting to scream for air when Elena slowed her pace.

"Cool down mile," she told him with a smirk, seemingly barely winded. She could tell he was making every attempt to hide just how much effort he was having to put into keeping up with her.

"Don't stop on my account," he countered, except it came out far more breathy than Elena's words had. She laughed and turned her attention back to the trail ahead. Not soon enough for Damon, the trail opened up and he could see their cars, still the only ones in the lot. He got an idea. "Race you," he said before taking off at a sprint.

"Hey!" Elena called after him, breaking into a flat out run behind him. Damon easily beat her to the parking lot and turned to reach out and grab her just as she came towards him. "You cheated!" she gasped, as Damon's arms circled her. She rested her hands on his biceps.

"I did not cheat," he said. "I merely took an advantage."

"Or you were about to drop dead and wanted to save face," Elena said, calling him out. Damon's smirk told her she was right. He somewhat unwillingly let go of her and leaned against her SUV.

"Join me for breakfast?" he asked. "It's the least you can do after subjecting me to the wild." To his dismay, Elena shook her head.

"I can't," she said. "I promised Caroline I'd help her with the festival. I need to shower and meet her by nine o'clock, sharp. And I can promise you, I don't want to be late."

"You are a very hard woman to track down," he told her. "I had to chase you through the woods for miles just to see you." Elena grinned.

"Tell you what," she said. "Show up at the festival tonight. And then try to accidentally on purpose run into me." Damon smirked.

"You make that sound like a challenge." Elena winked at him.

"It is."

* * *

><p>"Muffin before you go?" Jenna asked, holding out a freshly baked blueberry muffin as Elena entered the kitchen.<p>

"Please," Elena said, accepting the muffin from her aunt. She found a thermos and started fixing herself coffee to go. "I'm going to need all the help I can get if I'm going to put up with Caroline in full dictator mode all day. Carbs and caffeine is as good of a place to start as any."

"Caroline can be intense when there's an event in her charge," Jenna agreed. "It's what makes her so good at her job."

"An event planner who is planning her own wedding," Elena pointed out. "Poor Tyler." Jenna laughed. "Where's Ric and Ella? They were watching cartoon when I got here but it's too quiet for them to still be in this house."

"I sent them to the store," Jenna said. "I still need to bake a few more dozen cupcakes for the church's booth tonight and I ran out of some of my ingredients – which is why I was only up baking until midnight last night until two or three in the morning."

"Caroline?" Elena guessed.

"Yep," Jenna confirmed, sliding onto a barstool across from where Elena stood at the kitchen island. "So, Damon Salvatore showed up here last night. Looking for you." She'd intended to conveniently let the fact that he'd stopped by slip her mind, but she knew her husband would tell Elena, given that he appeared to be Team Damon. And she really wanted to know what was going on between her niece and Mystic Falls' once resident bad boy. Elena looked at Jenna over her coffee mug, unable to stop the small smile that formed on her lips.

"I know," she said. Jenna raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what is the story there? Why was Damon standing on my doorstep at nine o'clock last night under the impression that you live here?"

"He walked me home Tuesday night," Elena confessed. "When I stayed here so I didn't have to drive back to the lake after having dinner with my friends." She broke off a piece of her muffin. "And then he picked me up here the next night for a date." She quickly popped the muffin piece into her mouth.

"What?" Jenna screeched. "You went on a date with Damon Salvatore?"

"I did," Elena confirmed. "And it was a surprisingly fun night."

"Elena, I love you and I'm all for you dating. You know I've tried to set you up with every decent single guy I know. But Damon? Really?"

"I know," Elena admitted. "He can come across as a complete jerk…"

"Do you want me to recount his high school record?" Jenna interrupted. "From what I've heard, not much has changed."

"But…," Elena continued with a warning look at her aunt. "There's something about him. I don't buy the tough guy act. I don't completely buy the good guy hidden underneath that cool exterior act either, but there's just something about him. What, I don't know."

"He's gorgeous," Jenna said as though that was the obvious answer. "It's easy to let those eyes and that hair distract you."

"He is gorgeous," Elena agreed. She broke off another piece of her muffin. "He went running with me this morning. Lectured me about running the McIntire Greenway by myself."

"Well, it is stupid," Jenna told her pointedly. Elena rolled her eyes. "I just don't want to see you to get hurt, Elena. And Damon is a heartbreaker. Always has been, always will be." Elena took that as her cue to gather her things to leave.

"He's not going to break my heart," she told her aunt. "He's only here for a couple of weeks. I'm just going to have fun while he's here. Enjoy the view, so to speak."

"I'll remind you you said that when you're crying on my doorstep," Jenna replied. Elena gave her a sarcastic smile and headed for the door.

* * *

><p>Damon idly walked through the town square, his eyes peeled for Elena as he took in the scene unfolding around him. He could remember the same festival, celebrating the end of summer, from his childhood. He never understood why they welcomed fall. It was full of death and dying. Everything that was once full of life shriveled and died, sometimes overnight if the first frost came too early. At least it brought football season. That was its sole saving grace.<p>

He could admit that Caroline Forbes had outdone herself. Every sort of booth, activity and carnival ride stereotypical to a small town festival filled the square. All around him, people were enjoying themselves, standing in line for the merry go 'round, catching up with neighbors or eating something fried. And none of them were Elena. He did, however, spy Ric and Jenna manning the church's booth. Ric, he noted, looked less than thrilled, an observation that brought him a certain level of amusement. He changed course and headed in their direction.

"Ric," he greeted. "Jenna."

"Damon, my man," Ric replied. He offered his hand and Damon shook head.

"Hello, Damon," Jenna replied with some measure of forced politeness. "Nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Jenna," he said. A family with a herd of kids approached the booth which, Damon realized involved allowing them to decorate their own cupcakes. He turned to Ric. "Having fun?" he asked with a smirk.

"Bite me," Alaric muttered.

"Language," Damon chided. "This is the church booth, after all."

"Wonder you didn't burst into flames when you got within ten yard of it then."

"Holy water must be faulty," Damon quipped. Alaric laughed and Damon grinned.

"You get in touch with Elena last night?" Alaric asked.

"I did," Damon confirmed. "Although it resulted in me getting up at the ass crack of dawn to run a thousand miles through the middle of Deliverance. Speaking of, why do you let her run that greenway by herself? Have you been up there? There's nothing around for miles."

"I've been there," Ric confirmed. "And I know. But she's stubborn. To use her favorite line, she's a big girl, at the end of the day. I don't have to like it, but I can't stop her." Damon grumbled something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like "then I will" to Alaric.

"You seen her around?" Damon asked, trying to sound casual.

"Last time I saw her, she was headed towards the games," he said, giving Damon a knowing look. "And if you happen to find her, she has my daughter with her."

"I won't corrupt your toddler, promise," Damon said, already moving to head off in the direction of the carnival games.

"It's not my toddler I'm worried about."

Damon chuckled as he walked away, the sound of Jenna's voice calling for Ric to help with her large group meeting his ears. He weaved through the crowd, his eyes skimming over the duck pond, the balloon dart toss and a clown making balloon animals. He stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on Elena at the milk bottle pyramid.

She was taking three softballs from a carnival worker, her attention more on her niece, a miniature replica of Jenna, than the man who was not blind to her looks. She was beautiful, her long hair falling around her. She was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans that hit low on her hips and a simple black, lace tank top. He watched, a grin on his face, as she took up her stance to throw the first ball. She missed the stack of milk bottles by inches. She threw the second one, taking out the very top bottle. With the third, she managed to knock down a couple more, earning a small stuffed animal which she happily passed off to her niece who looked at the big stuffed bears wistfully even as she muttered a thank you to her aunt.

"You throw like a girl, Gilbert," he called out, starting towards her. She turned at the sound of his voice and her eyes lit up when they landed on him. He tried to ignore the stutter of his heart as it recovered from missing a beat.

"Think you can do better, Salvatore?" she asked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill, held it up where he could see.

"Matter of fact, I do," he said as he stalked towards her.

"Then step up to the plate," she retorted. "Prove you picked up something besides a paycheck from all those pro athletes you hang around with." He was next to her now, his lips inches from hers.

"Game on, Gilbert."

She smirked despite the flash of heat that washed over her at his proximity and passed the bill over to the attendant who handed her three balls in return. Damon bent down to Ella's level.

"Which one do you want, sweetheart?" he asked, pointing at the stuffed animals hanging around the booth. The little girl looked at him for a long moment before timidly pointing at the biggest bear in the booth. He nodded at her and stood up. "Watch and learn," he said to Elena, taking the first ball from her.

Elena took a step back, pulling Ella with her to keep her out of the way. Damon planted his feet and, with all the practice of someone who had observed many a baseball player, drew back his arm and stepped into his pitch. He easily knocked down half the milk bottles.

"Wow!" Ella gasped.

"She's impressed," Damon told Elena.

"That makes one of us," she replied, handing him a second ball. He winked at her and resumed his position. Elena watched his biceps bulge as he bent his arm again. He launched the ball and knocked down all but three milk bottles.

"What do I get if I knock down those last three bottles?" he asked Elena as he reached for the last ball.

"The satisfaction of making a little girl's day," she told him, putting both hands on her niece's shoulders. Damon took a deep breath and resumed his position. With careful concentration, he lined up his pitch and was confident when he released the ball. He was only moderately surprised when the remaining bottles fell. Ella shrieked in excitement and clapped her hands while Elena, beaming, gave him a short round of applause of her own. The booth attendant handed him the big bear and he turned to Ella.

"For you," he said, offering the bear which was more than half her size, to her. She looked at Elena who gave her a nod of approval before she grabbed it from him and hugged it to her.

"What do you say, El?" Elena asked, leaning down so she was closer to her niece's height.

"Thank you," she said shyly, hugging the bear tightly.

"You are most welcome," Damon replied, giving her another smile. He stood once more.

"Thank you," Elena told him. "That was sweet of you."

"I like her dad," he answered with a shrug. Elena smiled and shook her head in amusement before crouching down to her niece's level.

"Ella? This is my – friend – Damon," she said, officially introducing Damon. Damon liked the sound of friend.' "Damon, this is my niece, Ella."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ella," he said, offering Ella his hand. She took it, mimicking what she'd seen all the adults in her life do.

"Hi," she replied, then snatched her hand away shyly. She looked at Elena. "Ride ponies now?" she asked.

"I did promise," Elena confirmed. She looked at Damon. "We're heading to the pony rides. Want to join us?"

"Well, I did show up here with the intentions of running into you accidentally on purpose," he said. They started walking, Elena holding her niece's hand. Damon walked close to Elena, his arm brushing hers occasionally.

"Did you go home and crash after our run this morning?" Elena asked.

"I did," Damon admitted. "You wore me out, Gilbert." As he'd hoped, Elena laughed. "How was helping Caroline with all of this?" He waved his hand to indicate the carnival.

"Soul crushing," Elena answered. "She's an event planner by trade. These town events are her version of the Super Bowl and being as she's marrying the mayor's son, she gets to plan them all. Luckily, I had a get out of jail free card this time." She nodded her head to indicate her niece. "I'm usually not so lucky."

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Alaric Saltzman is working the church booth at a town event," Damon said. "You can't understand how messed up that is in my head. He spent more time chasing skirts and guzzling booze than…" Elena elbowed him.

"Little ears," she hissed, reminding him that Ella was with her.

"Oh, right," he said, realizing he'd have to work to keep his language child-friendly. "Sorry. I'll behave."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Elena said. "But just so you know, Ric hasn't gone completely soft. I'm handing Ella off to Jeremy and Bonnie in about an hour and they're taking her overnight so Ric and Jenna can have the house to themselves."

"Now that sounds more like Ric," Damon said with an appreciative grin.

They arrived at the pony rides and Damon stood aside, watching as Elena navigated Ella through the line and to the pony of her choice. He smirked as Ella inform Elena that she could ride the pony by herself and, once a riding helmet was snapped on and a worker had helped her into the saddle, the large bear along for the ride, she sent her aunt to the fence to watch.

"Something tells me she gets her temper from her aunt," Damon said as Elena joined him.

"Shut up," she mumbled, but with a small smile. The ponies started walking in their circle, causing Ella to let out a shriek of excitement. Elena smiled and took her phone out of her bag to take a few photos.

"You know, I had fun the other night," Damon started, his eyes trained on the pony ride. Elena snapped one more photo, then turned to look at Damon.

"I did too," she told him. "You surprised me." That got his full attention.

"How so?" he asked. Elena shrugged.

"You were a gentleman. I was anticipating having to kick you wear it hurts to get you off of me by the end of the night."

"Contrary to popular belief, I can behave myself every once in a while." Damon rolled his shoulders a couple of times to relieve the tension that had suddenly settled there. It bothered him that Elena had thought he'd treat her with anything other than respect – not that his behavioral pattern indicated anything different.

"I'm starting to think popular belief and what you're actually capable of are two very different things," she told him. Ella called out to her as she passed and Elena looked away from Damon to smile and wave.

"You don't exactly live up to your billing either, you know," replied.

"How so?" Elena asked, returning her attention to him.

"I remember you, Elena. You were – and still are, as far as I can tell – the golden girl of Mystic Falls. Honor student, cheer captain, Miss Mystic Falls… Probably have a long resume full of volunteer work and community projects. Add to that a degree from Columbia and a bestselling book and the last thing most men would expect around here is someone full of fire with an independent streak as wide as the Mississippi."

"I guess looks can be deceiving," her eyes on Damon. She bit her lip, memories of kissing him on her doorstep rushing to the forefront of her mind. She often thought exactly what Damon had just said. She lived up to the expectations that came with being a member of a funding family and yet had her own drum that she beat to as loud and as often as possible. Most people chose to overlook her independent streak. Damon seemed to embrace it.

"Guess so," he echoed, leaning perceptively closer to her.

"Day-mun!" came Ella's voice. Their moment broken, they both turned to Ella who was waving as she passed them again. Damon gave her a smile and held up his hand in a self-conscious type of wave, revealing that he wasn't entirely comfortable being around small children. Elena held in a grin at his slight awkwardness and went to retrieve Ella as the ride came to an end.

"Where to next?" she asked Ella as they returned to Damon.

"Cotton candy," Damon supplied. Ella's eyes lit up at his suggestion.

"No," Elena said sternly. "It's pure sugar. She'll be on a sugar high all night, won't go to sleep..."

"And she'll be with your brother, not you," Damon cut her off. "We ply her with sugar and hand her off. We're the cool ones, they're the screwed ones." Elena raised her eyebrows in warning when "screwed" fell from Damon's lips. He smirked in reply.

"Cotton candy, Aunt Laney!" Ella begged.

"Yeah, Aunt Laney, cotton candy," Damon said. He offered Ella his hand which she happily accepted.

"Fine," Elena grumbled. "You're trouble, Salvatore."

"So are you, Gilbert," he replied. He scooped Ella up into his arms, her overstuffed bear and all, and boldly took Elena's hand in his. "Come on, girls."

For the next hour, Damon let a two year old dictate the itinerary. Cotton candy, kiddie rides, more carnival games and a return to the pony ride later, they were walking towards the petting zoo to pass Ella off to Jeremy and Bonnie. Ella had quickly taken to Damon and was now walking happily between him and Elena, holding their hands and talking animatedly about her day. Damon listened, Ella's carnival spoils held in his free hand, wondering how Elena seemed to understand everything the two year old was saying as a lot of it sounded like gibberish to him.

"Ella Bella!"

"Hi, Uncle Jer!" Ella broke free and ran the last few steps to Jeremy who swooped her into a hug before she reached for Bonnie with a shriek of "Aunt Bon!"

"Hey," Elena greeted her brother. "You remember Damon?"

"Vaguely," Jeremy said, nodding politely at Damon. "Good to see you around here again." Damon returned Jeremy's polite nod with one of his own.

"Elena was telling me you played college ball," he said. Sports and the weather were his two safety topics when he needed to strike up conversation. Jeremy took the bait.

"Wide receiver at JMU," Jeremy confirmed. "We won a national title while I was there." The conversation took off from there, leaving Bonnie and Elena to escort Ella through the petting zoo.

"I heard you were with him tonight," Bonnie said quietly as Ella squatted down to pet a small lamb. "How'd that happen?"

"Why am I not surprised I'm already the talk of the town?" Elena grumbled, more to herself. "When we went running this morning, I told him to show up here and try to run into me. I didn't think he actually would." Bonnie glanced towards Damon and Jeremy just in time to see Damon giving Elena a look full of both lust and longing.

"I think he likes you," she told Elena. "Sure is going through a lot of trouble to spend time with you. Up for a run at dawn, braving a town carnival to see you, only to end up hanging out with a toddler."

"He's just being nice," Elena said dismissively. "Besides, Stefan works all the time, not that they get along all that well anyway. Who else is he going to hang out with while he's here?" She leaned down to Ella's level to answer a question about the goat she was petting.

"So do you like him?" Bonnie asked when Elena was upright again. Elena looked over her shoulder to where Damon and Jeremy were talking animatedly. Jeremy threw his head back, laughing at something Damon had just said.

"I'm – curious about him," Elena admitted. "He's really smart, Bonnie. When I'm with him, it isn't like being with Matt. Matt is perfectly nice. He's one of my best friends. But we don't have much in common. Those couple of dates I went on with him, all we talked about was high school. Damon argued with me over Faulkner and he lights up when he talks about his career. He challenges me. But I'm trying to be realistic. He's only in town for a couple of weeks and then he'll go back to his life in New York and I'll continue living out my days here."

"You're more than curious about him," Bonnie said knowingly. "And I still have a really good feeling about you and him." Elena gave Bonnie a fond shake of her head and changed the subject to Caroline's wedding plans as they made their way back around to Damon and Jeremy.

"We should probably get going, be the responsible aunt and uncle and get the little one home and in bed at a decent hour," Jeremy said. He glanced up at the sky and then looked at Elena. "It's supposed to storm tonight. You can stay with us if you'd rather not drive back to the lake."

"Yeah, stay with us," Bonnie agreed. "We have plenty of room."

"I'll be fine," Elena told them. Damon picked up on the firmness in her voice and furrowed his brow slightly, wondering what had prompted it.

"Well, if you change your mind…" Jeremy said. "Since Ric and Jenna are all about having the place to themselves tonight, and all…"

"I know," Elena said, a bit gentler this time. "And thank you. But really, I'll be fine. You all act like the lake house is in another country."

"May as well be," Jeremy replied under his breath.

"I'll make sure she gets home okay," Damon said, putting a hand on the small of Elena's back. Jeremy looked between the two in an effort to determine what was going on between them and then nodded once at Damon to show his thanks.

"I had so much fun with you, Ella," Elena said, picking up her niece to give her a hug. "You be good for Aunt Bon and Uncle Jer, okay?"

"Okay, Aunt Laney," Ella said with a smile. Elena kissed her cheek. "Eskimo kiss!" Ella shrieked, bumping her nose with Elena. Elena humored her and Ella laughed happily as they rubbed noses.

"Can you tell Damon goodbye?" Elena asked when she pulled away.

"Bye, Day-mun," Ella said, looking at Damon with her wide dark blue eyes.

"Bye, kiddo," Damon said, handing her the stuffed bear. "Don't forget this."

"Thank you!" she said. She surprised Damon – and everyone else – by leaning forward in Elena's arms and kissing his cheek. Elena was sure he blushed.

"You already have her bag, right?" Elena asked Bonnie.

"Jenna put it in our car earlier," Bonnie confirmed, taking Ella from Elena.

"This is hers too," Damon said, handing Jeremy a bag of cotton candy and a couple other carnival prizes he'd been carrying.

"Cotton candy, great," Jeremy said, already bracing himself for the sugar high he was sure his niece was currently riding. He turned to his wife and niece. "Ladies," he offered his arm which Bonnie took.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Bonnie said over her shoulder. Elena nodded and then turned back to Damon.

"I think Ella is smitten," she said with a grin.

"Gilbert niece down, Gilbert aunt to go," he replied simply. Elena shook her head at him. "What now, Miss Gilbert?" Elena didn't have to think. Whenever there was a big town festival, she had one tradition she had to uphold, no matter what Caroline tried to drag her into.

"A funnel cake," she told him. "With chocolate sauce." Damon grinned.

"Sweet tooth much?" he asked, offering his arm the same way Jeremy had.

"Guilty as charged," Elena agreed, placing her hand on his elbow. He led her towards a booth selling the fried cakes. Elena was aware of the curious looks from her neighbors, but found they didn't bother her. If Damon had noticed them, he didn't let on.

They ordered a funnel cake to share, with confectionary sugar and chocolate sauce at Elena's request, and once they were served, took a seat on one of the hay bales strategically placed throughout the carnival. From their vantage point, they had a good view of the makeshift stage where a local band was play. They sat close, the hay bale making it necessary, which was fine by Damon who had found himself touching Elena in some manner all night, whether holding her hand or placing his own hand on the small of her back to guide her and Ella through a crowd.

"I can't remember the last time I had one of these," Damon said between bites of the fried dough.

"I get one at every single town event," Elena told him. "I've tried to make them at home, but they never quite taste the same. My mom could make them though. They turned out perfect every time."

"Every town event? That must mean about two of these a month." Damon remembered all the events Mystic Falls put on during his childhood. A festival for this, a fundraiser for that. There was always something going on in the small town.

"More like one," Elena said. "The funnel cake vendor doesn't usually get invited to the cocktail parties at the Lockwoods."

"They still do that big Halloween festival?" he asked. "The one with all the vampires and werewolves and witches?"

"Yes," Elena said with a roll of her eyes. "Caroline is in charge of that one too. Other than the big Christmas wonderland, it's the biggest event of the year. She's been planning both for months."

"I always liked that one," Damon said. "People thought I was dressed up with the dark colored clothing and all. The pale yet flawless complexion helped too."

"Let me guess. Vampire?"

"Naturally," Damon said with a wave of his hand, drawing another laugh out of Elena. He smiled. There was something about hearing her laugh that soothed him, made him feel like all was right in the world. He wanted to hear that sound again and again.

For the next hour, they sat on the hay bale together, trading stories about town events from over the years, Damon remembering things he hadn't thought about in years as he talked. The conversation flowed easily, their funnel cake long gone, Damon's hand resting on Elena's leg as she leaned towards him. They were discussing favorite movies when the band they hadn't been listening to stopped abruptly and Caroline's voice filled the mic.

"I'm so sorry, but we're going to have to cut tonight's show short," she said. "There are severe storms moving in and in turn, we're closing the festival down early and encourage everyone to head home. We'll be back up and running tomorrow and Monday with the weekend festivities wrapping up with one last summer barbecue at Mayor Lockwood's on Monday evening. Thanks for coming!"

People around them began gathering belongs and children. Elena looked up at the sky which had been full of stars when she and Damon had sat down and found it now heavy with dark ,threatening clouds. As though on cue, lightning flashed in the distance, followed several moments later by a far off rumble of thunder.

"I should get going," she said, turning to Damon. He immediately picked up on the shift in Elena's demeanor. She looked nervous now, no longer the carefree woman he'd been so taken with for the better part of the evening that he'd barely been aware of the fact that he was sitting on a hay bale in the middle of Mystic Falls, listening to a second rate band play covers of country songs about love, loss, dogs and beer.

"You okay?" he asked, immediately concerned. He watched her eyes dart towards the sky and back at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said too quickly for it to be the truth. "I just have a bit of a drive and with the storm coming, I should get going, try to beat it home." Damon shook his head.

"You're not driving out to the lake in this," he said. "It's moving in from that direction. You're just going to drive right into it." Elena chewed her lip.

"Maybe I should take Jeremy and Bonnie up on their offer." Damon had an idea.

"Stay with me," he said. He hurried to clarify what he meant when Elena's eyes grew big. "You've been to the boarding house. It's full of bedrooms that don't get used. You can have your pick." Then he grinned. "And we can watch _Fight Club_ and correct the horrible wrong that is the fact that you've never seen it." Elena gave him a small, timid smile, remembering his earlier indignation when he'd learned she'd never seen his all-time favorite movie.

"I really can stay with Bonnie and Jeremy," she ventured. Damon shook his head and took her hand.

"Stay with me," he said. "Stefan's working or actually staying at his own place or something. The boarding house is big and empty. You'd be keeping me company. And really, _Fight Club_."

Another flash of lightning followed by a rumble of thunder, closer this time, filled the space. Most of the festival goers had already cleared out, leaving a few stragglers and carnival workers picking up trash and closing down their booths against the increasing winds.

"Okay," Elena agreed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Looks like you have yourself a house guest tonight." Damon grinned and bit back a witty response about how he always got what he wanted, sensing it would send Elena's straight to Jeremy's instead of home with him. She shivered as the wind picked up and he didn't hesitate to shrug off his leather jacket, realizing the late summer air had grown quite cool ahead of the pending storm.

"Put this on," he instructed, draping it over her shoulders. "Where did you park?"

"The library parking lot."

"I'm not too far from there," Damon said. He stood, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "I'll walk to you to your car, grab mine, and meet you at the boarding house."

Elena allowed him to lead her through the nearly empty festival. His grip on her hand was firm, confident. She liked it, especially in that moment as yet another pop of lightning lit up the sky, the thunder following shortly after. Her SUV was one of the only vehicles left in the library parking lot when they arrived. She insisted on giving Damon a ride to his car a few blocks away and then followed him to the Salvatore boarding house as a light rain started to fall.

* * *

><p><strong>Whew! Lots of goodness there. What'd you think?<strong>


	7. Storm

**The response to the last chapter was unbelievable. I keep saying it and will keep on saying it, but thank you so much for reading and reviewing and favoriting. You all are wonderful. **

**For those of you hoping for some good Damon/Elena one on one time after last chapter - here you go. :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries**

* * *

><p>As they pulled into the roundabout drive of the Salvatore boarding house, Damon hit a button on the remote clipped to his car's sun visor. A garage door started to open. He tapped another button, opening another stall door, and motioned for Elena to park in the empty space. She did so and he met her at her door as she stepped out.<p>

"I hope Stefan has that pretty little red Porsche of his under cover," he said. "The radio said to expect hail. It would be a shame to see it fall victim to a hail storm."

"Is that your way of saying you hope your little brother is safe and sound from these storms?" Elena asked. Damon looked at her seriously.

"He drives a 1963 Porsche 356B Karmann Coupe. It should be punishable by death if someone so much as puts a fingerprint on its back bumper."

"You really love cars," she observed, studying him. Despite what he said, she knew he was concerned, at least on some level, about Stefan's whereabouts.

"The cars we drive say a lot about us," Damon told her. Outside, the sky opened up suddenly, unleashing a violent downpour, accompanied by more thunder and lightning. "Come on," he said. He reached for Elena's hand and led her across the six car garage and through the door that opened into the kitchen.

"Thanks for letting me stay," Elena said as Damon released her hand and started to flip on lights, flooding the big home with a soft glow. "Bonnie and Jeremy are great and all, but their place is pretty small. With Ella there, it would have been one person too many to be comfortable."

"I'd rather have you here where I know you're safe," Damon replied, coming towards Elena. He placed his hands on her waist. "Besides, you're pretty which makes you fun to look at."

"You aren't so bad to look at yourself, you know." Elena put her own hands on Damon's shoulders. He reached out and ran a hand through her hair.

"I promise I have every intention of being a gentleman," he told her seriously. "But right now, there is something I have to do."

He leaned in then and captured her lips with his, pulling her flush against him, his arms moving to circle around her waist. She mimicked his moves, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him still closer. He ran the kiss right up to the edge of taking it too far before he pulled away. He placed one last soft, short kiss on her lips before releasing her completely, feeling the loss of warmth profoundly as she stepped back.

"I've been wanting to do that all night," he said.

"I've been wanting you to do that since our run this morning," Elena countered. Her eyes went big for the briefest of moments then, letting Damon catch on that she hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Should've said something sooner," he said with a smirk. "I'm going to run upstairs and get my phone charger. Make yourself at home, okay? There's plenty of food and stuff to drink." He paused. "Although, I'm not really sure how it got there. I haven't been to a grocery store and I don't think Stefan has either."

"Your father just died," Elena said knowingly. "Speaking from experience, mysterious casseroles will show up in your fridge for another week or so. Fair warning, some will be better than others."

"The good people of Mystic Falls strike again," he said. "Be right back." Damon hurried out of the room and up the stairs. He didn't actually need his charger or anything else, but he did need a minute to get himself under control.

Elena had been affecting him all night, but it had been easier to push down thoughts of what he'd like to do to her when they were in public, him unable to act on his impulses without risk of being thrown in jail for public indecency. Having her in the boarding house and saying things about how she wished he'd kissed her earlier, it was all he could do not to act on the fantasies that had slowly, but surely, filled his head over the last few days.

Then there was the fact that he _wanted_ to get himself under control. He couldn't remember the last time he'd purposefully made an effort not to take things too far. He'd pretended to be a gentleman a number of times – women loved that stuff – only to let his true intentions show the very moment the woman in his crosshairs dropped her guard. With Elena, he wanted to spend time with her. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted to talk to her and he hated talking to anyone who wasn't involved in making him money. He preferred to be alone, to operate without any attachments.

Whatever Elena was doing to him was confusing the hell out of him. He would need to figure it out eventually, why this woman was proving to be so different than any other of the many women he'd entertained. But for Now, Elena was waiting. He took a few moments to breathe deep before he unplugged his phone charger and returned downstairs. He had instinctively gone to the living room, expecting to find Elena there. When the sofas and arm chairs turned up empty, he frowned slightly and re-routed to the kitchen.

He found her there, her back to him as she stood at the double glass sliding door that led to one of the home's outdoor entertaining areas. He watched as her whole body tensed with an especially loud crack of lightning, the rain pounding relentless against the house. She had wrapped her arms around herself and she tightened them even more as thunder rumbled through the night. It looked as though she were trying to make herself as small as possible.

"Elena?" he asked softly. She jumped, startled by his voice, but didn't turn around.

"Hey," she said. He heard the strain in her voice she was trying to hide. "It's really coming down out there."

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. He dropped his charger on a counter and crossed the kitchen to stand a few feet from her. "You okay?" She nodded but didn't answer. Another crack of lightning elicited the same tense response from Elena. "Elena?" He knew something was wrong. He was in unfamiliar territory, caring about why she was uncomfortable, but he had to do whatever he could to help her. He took another few steps towards her and put a soft hand on her elbow.

"I'm okay," she said automatically.

"Elena."

She finally tuned to him and when she did, he saw the fear in her eyes. The pieces fell into place, Jeremy warning her about the storms and encouraging her to stay with them, her sudden urgency to go home when Caroline issued her storm warning. Elena was afraid of thunderstorms.

"Hey, come here." Damon pulled her to his chest and felt her hands clutch the fabric of his t-shirt to draw herself closer. "You're safe," he whispered into her hair. "I've got you." She nodded against his chest. He continued to hold her, whispering words of comfort that he hadn't known he was capable of saying. Several minutes later, she was the one to pull away.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, wiping at her eyes. "Storms scare me."

"No need to apologize," Damon said with a shake of his head. He smoothed a hand over her hair. Yet another crack of lightning sounded and she jumped again, a gasp of surprise escaping. Outside, hail joined in with the pounding rain.

"I'm sorry," Elena said again as she wrapped her arms around her once more. "I just… It's just…" She stopped talking for a moment and took a deep breath before looking back to Damon. "It was storming the night my parents died. Ever since, storms… They bring that night back."

Damon didn't know how to reply to that so he just pulled her back to him and held her a little longer. He noticed the scent of coffee and glanced around the kitchen to see a freshly brewed pot that Elena must have made while he was upstairs. Seeing the pot gave him an idea.

"Come on," he said, pulling away just enough to slip an arm around her waist and guide her out of the kitchen. He'd intended to lead her to the living room and deposit her on the couch, but he had another thought and re-routed them up the stairs. "Let's get you into something more comfortable."

In his room, he let go of Elena and left her to wander as he rummaged through his drawers for a t-shirt for her to sleep in. She made a beeline for the stack of books on his nightstand.

"First edition?" she asked, gingerly picking up his copy of _Gone With The Wind_.

"It was my mother's," he confirmed. He laid a t-shirt and a pair of clean boxers on the bed. "These will probably swallow you whole, but they'll be way more comfortable than those jeans."

"Thanks," she said. "For everything." Damon nodded once.

"Meet me in the living room," he told her. He pointed towards an open door off of his room. "Bathroom is just through there." He left, closing the bedroom door behind him. With the click of the door, Elena blew out a breath and gingerly sat on the edge of Damon's neatly made bed.

The day had been one long roller coaster ride. She had started out on a high, thanks to her run with Damon. From there, things had coasted along fairly smoothly as she'd gone to Jenna and Alaric's to shower and get ready for the day. She'd parted ways with Jenna a little more tension than she would have liked, thanks to Jenna's fixation on Damon, but she'd still been in a good mood.

Helping Caroline had been a lot of up and down. She loved Caroline dearly, but when she was in charge of virtually anything, she tended to become a tyrant, demanding perfection and finding someone to yell at until she got it. While none of Caroline's rants had been directed at her, she'd still had to endure a day full of the blonde's to-do lists, time she could have used to work on her next book for which she'd been experiencing a lot of inspiration for as of late.

The day had taken a plummet when she'd ran into Matt Donovan as she'd placed the final touches on the elaborate fall decorations greeting festival goers at the south end of the town square. She'd known him her entire life and recognized the hurt expression in his eye almost instantly. Without thinking, she'd asked him what was wrong and he in turn asked her if she was dating Damon Salvatore. She'd told him the truth – that she'd had dinner with him – and reminded him that while she had been on a couple of dates with him since moving back, they weren't a couple. Matt had agreed, but she could tell she'd dashed his false hopes pretty thoroughly, just by dining with the elder Salvatore.

Her feelings of guilt for hurting Matt had subsided fairly quickly when Ric and Jenna had shown up with Ella and placed the toddler in her charge. She adored her niece. Ella was smart and curious and had a vivid imagination that made Elena wish she were that innocent again. She had loved watching Ella take in the festival, dazzled by the lights and sounds. At one point, while standing beside Ella as she'd giggled happily on the merry go round, she had even thought about how someday, she wanted her own child to bring to town festivals, dress up at Halloween and tuck into bed on Christmas Eve, only to be woken up by shouts of "Santa came!" a few short hours later.

The night skyrocketed when Damon showed up. She'd hoped he would, but hadn't let her hopes get up so high that she'd be crushed if he didn't. But then he was there, taunting her throwing and taking her challenge to prove he could do better. He'd been positively charming from then on out, playing second fiddle to Ella who dictated their every move. He'd won the little girl over handedly, not only because he'd bought her cotton candy, but because he'd interacted with her, listened to her as though she were an equal and not a small child.

Elena had been floored by his interaction with her. She'd had to cut him off a time or two, his habit of dropping curse words or lewd comments into conversation not one that was easily broken, but he'd been a natural with Ella. She hadn't expected that. He came across as dangerous, a bit reckless. He'd even looked the part, dressed all in black again, right down to his leather jacket. Yet Ella had wrapped him around her finger, brought out a softer side that Elena had glimpsed during the dinner and when he'd walked her home.

The night had only gotten better after Jeremy and Bonnie had left with Ella. Something as simple as sitting on a hay bale and sharing a funnel cake had been wonderful. He'd made her laugh, challenged her, listened to her. Then the storm had come up and she'd plummeted down another hill, fighting not to fall victim to the memories that haunted her ever since the night her parents had died. Damon had been there then too, showing his soft side again, holding her and soothing her.

With a sigh, she stood and began to change. The t-shirt, black of course, hit her mid-thigh and smelled like Damon. The boxer shorts were far too big, no matter how many times she rolled them. She gave up, deciding the shirt was long enough, and headed downstairs. Damon wasn't in the living room, but he had already cued up _Fight Club_, the start screen's music playing on loop. She could hear him in the kitchen, but waited for him in the living room as he'd instructed. The storm, which had died down for a few minutes, had picked back up, the rain lashing at the windows, another round of hail pounding the house.

"You ready for one of the greatest coming of age movies of all time?" Damon asked, entering the room with two coffee mugs.

"Easy on the 'greatest of all time' claim, Kanye," Elena said, accepting a mug from him. He laughed as he settled in next to her. He too had changed, now wearing plaid pajama pants and a white v-neck t-shirt. It was the first time she'd seen him in something besides black or navy. She took a sip from her mug, assuming it was coffee, but was surprised with a different yet familiar flavor she couldn't place mingling with the strong coffee she had made earlier. "What's this?"

"Coffee mixed with hot chocolate," Damon answered, taking a drink from his own mug. "In this case, salted caramel hot chocolate because that's all we had. My mom used to make these."

"It's good," Elena said, taking another sip. It was the second time he'd mentioned his mother that evening. She wasn't sure how she knew it was significant, but she did. Stefan never talked about their mother, but she'd always assumed that was because he'd never known her. "Start the movie?"

"As you wish," Damon agreed. He leaned forward, picked up the remote, and pushed play. Outside, the wind whistled around the corners of the house.

At first, Elena and Damon remained in their respective spots on the couch, sipping their drinks and watching the movie. Elena sneaked looks at Damon who was engrossed in the movie although he had seen it many times over. While she didn't hate it, she wasn't particular drawn in by the story unfolding either. It kept her mind off the storm that raged on outside, however, for which she was grateful.

She leaned forward to place her empty mug on the coffee table and deciding to be bold, tucked herself into Damon's side. He smiled and took that as his cue to wrap an arm around her. As the underground fighting on screen grew more intense, she found herself more sucked in to the filmn and unconsciously draped her legs over Damon's which were propped on the coffee table. He responded by pulling a throw from the back of the couch and spreading it over them, placing a feather of a kiss on her head as he did so.

The movie was just reaching its climax when the loudest pop of lightning yet cracked outside, followed by a rumble of thunder so loud it shook the house. There was another pop and the house was pitched into darkness.

"Oh, come on!" Damon exclaimed, irritated that his movie had been interrupted. He looked towards Elena. "It was almost at my favorite part."

"You could rival Ella with that pout," Elena quipped.

"Funny," Damon replied although he was glad to see Elena seemed to have relaxed from her earlier scare. He blew out a breath, knowing he needed to be responsible and find them a light source until the power came on. "You stay here. I think there are some candles in the kitchen. Maybe a flashlight too."

"They can wait," she told him, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. "I'm comfortable." Part of her was still reeling from the storm but for the most part, she wasn't quite ready to let Damon off the couch. He looked at her through the darkness.

"Well, who would I be to argue with a beautiful woman?" he asked, settling back against the couch cushions. Elena settled back into her place at Damon's side, her head resting on his shoulder. They remained like that for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Elena jumped every once in a while when the storm would unleash a particularly violent rumble of thunder or pop of lightning and each time, Damon would wordlessly tighten his arm around her, letting her know she was safe.

"So you and Stefan," Damon mentioned after a while. He busied himself by playing with the fringe of the throw.

"What about me and Stefan?" Elena asked.

"You dated him."

"I did."

"Why'd you break up?"

Elena pushed herself into a seating position and even though the only light she had was the frequent flash of lightning, she could see the slightest hint of vulnerability in Damon's eyes. Under the cover of near pitch black, he was letting his guard down just a little more.

"Because we were eighteen," she answered. "We had our own plans. He was going to UVA to be a doctor. I was going to Columbia to be a writer. We weren't willing to do the long distance thing and ultimately, we knew we were better friends than boyfriend and girlfriend. It may disappoint you, but there were no hard feelings or big, dramatic blow up arguments. It was a mutual 'hey, we've had a good run, but let's be friends' kind of split. And he's been one of my best friends ever since."

"I am a little disappointed that Stefan didn't do something to cause you to throw things, slam doors, at the very least, storm out of the room," Damon said. "I like it when he's the bad guy."

"Instead of you?" Elena asked. Damon looked at her and she could tell, even in the darkness, that she'd caught him. "You aren't fooling me, Damon. Underneath those tailored black suits and the 'I always get what I want' attitude, you're a good guy." Damon continued to study her for a few more long moments. Then he shook his head, almost sadly.

"I'm not the good guy, Elena. Never have been, never will be."

"I don't believe that," Elena replied, moving towards him.

"You stick around long enough and I'll prove it," Damon said as though she'd issued a challenge. He pulled her closer. "I have a tendency to live up to everyone's worst expectations."

"Or you're good at self-sabotage," Elena said, her lips mere inches from his.

"I'm also good at this." He buried a hand in her silky hair and pulled her lips to his, kissing her deeply. Her lips parted with a sigh and he seized the opportunity, deepening the kiss even more, his tongue slipping in. With one hand still buried in her hair, he looped his other arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Straddling him, she placed a hand on either side of face, her fingers playing through his hair.

Damon pulled away, but only to start pressing soft kisses along her throat. He heard her sigh again and grinned against her skin. He wasn't good at talking about feelings or letting people get close to him, but he was good at this, at making a woman feel good. Pulling his lips from her skin, he moved back towards her lips, letting his stubble tickle along her throat.

"Damon," she whispered. His lips found hers again and this time, he laid back on the couch, pulling her with him.

Elena didn't know how much time had passed, whether it was five minutes or an hour. All she knew was Damon, his lips on hers and occasionally along her throat, his hands in her hair, moving up and down her back, venturing to her hip a time or two. She kissed him back with just as much fervor, her own hands moving along his hard chest. She pressed her body along his, making it clear that she wanted him. He kept himself in check, however, his moves purely PG. Finally, he pulled away, his breathing heavy.

"Lena," he said in a husky voice. He kissed her forehead and then laid back on the couch to catch his breath. She placed a soft kiss on the skin exposed by the v of his t-shirt and then laid her head back on his shoulder, her own breath starting to even out.

"You are the devil," Damon said softly. "Or an angel. I'm not sure which."

"You're definitely the devil," Elena replied. "Of that, I'm absolutely sure."

"You're not wrong." Damon kissed her forehead once more and then pulled her back into him. Elena let out a content sigh and settled against him. She realized that the storm outside had dulled to a peaceful rain with the occasional gentle rumble of thunder or flash of lightning. She didn't mind. Laying in Damon's arms, she was content. Another unknown amount of time passed before Damon spoke again.

"It's late. Let's get you in a bed."

Against her body's will, Elena forced her to a sitting position. Damon stood and took her hand to lead her through the still dark house, unfamiliar to her but as familiar to him now, years since he'd lived there, as it was to him as a small boy. They climbed the stairs and went down a hallway, entering Damon's bedroom.

"You sleep here tonight," Damon said, dropping Elena's hand once they were in the room. "I know for a fact that the bed is comfortable."

"And where are you sleeping?" Elena asked, turning to him in the darkness. She could just make out his form a few feet in front of her.

"With you."

Elena's jaw dropped ever so slightly. She had planned to protest, to insist that he sleep in his bed. They were adults, after all, and could surely be trusted to sleep next to one another. But Damon was as forward and as surprising as ever. He moved passed her, jarring her out of her thoughts. He flopped unceremoniously onto the bed, resting his head on the arm he'd bent behind him. The fact that it was completely dark added an element of danger to the situation.

"You coming?" he asked. Elena nodded even though she knew he couldn't see her and walked around to the other side of the bed. She pulled the covers back and slipped under them. Beside her, Damon pulled his t-shirt off and then joined her under the covers.

"Thanks for letting me stay tonight," she told him.

"Best night I've had in a while," Damon replied. He moved then, sliding over to her. Wordlessly, he rolled her gently onto her side and then pulled her to him, her back against his chest. He kissed her shoulder. "Goodnight, Elena."

"Night, Damon."

Outside, the storm blew itself out. Inside, spooned together in Damon's king-sized bed, Elena drifted off to sleep, her busy mind crowded by the feeling of Damon wrapped around her. Damon, however, lay awake well into the night, his mind racing. He was falling for Elena Gilbert. And it was starting to look like there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

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><p><strong>Damon is starting to realize he's in over his head, I do believe. How will this shake out? <strong>

**Let me know what you thought!**


	8. Timber

**Holy wow! Imag****ine my surprise when I woke up the morning after posting the last update and had a dozen reviews in just a few short hours. Thank you all so much! I wish I had time to reply to each of you, but I've been using every spare minute to write this story - I'm slightly obsessed with it and I love what's unfolding in my Word document.  
><strong>

**I really love this update, particularly the last section. It's more introspective. As this story has developed, I've come to realize its as much about Damon's personal development as it is about Damon and Elena falling for one another. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries. **

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><p>Damon awoke with a groan. Without opening his eyes, he reached groggily for Elena. His hand landed on cool sheets. His eyes popped open then, taking in the rumbled silk. He sat up and glanced towards the bathroom. The door was open, the room empty. He threw his blankets back and headed for the stairs, noting only vaguely that the electricity had been restored. As he descended the stairs, he picked up on sounds coming from the kitchen. Relief washed over him when he saw the brunette, still clad in his t-shirt, standing at the stove, manning a frying pan.<p>

"Good morning," Elena greeted. She smiled at him over her shoulder before turning back to the bacon she was frying.

"Morning," Damon replied. He made his way to her, almost cautiously. "I thought you'd given me the slip."

"I still can if you'd like," Elena said in a neutral tone, moving a strip of bacon from the pan to a napkin-covered plate. With the morning sun, her insecurities had come rushing forward. She'd awoken with Damon's arms wrapped around her, his nose buried in her hair as he slept deeply. Last night, pressed against him on the couch, she had let herself get swept away in the idea of him, of them. In the daylight, she was reminded that Damon was just passing through. He had a life in New York that he loved. They would never be more than – whatever they were right then.

"Don't you dare," Damon growled. He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her, pressing his full body against her petite one. He reached around her and took the spatula from her hand. Setting it down on the counter, he turned the stove off then spun Elena around, guided her backwards until he'd pinned her between himself and the counter. "Good morning," he said again. He didn't give Elena a chance to reply before his lips were on hers.

It didn't take long for things to heat up. With one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand moved lazily up her leg, slipped under the t-shirt she was wearing. Elena let her hands run up and down Damon's sculpted torso, feeling the muscles twitch in response to her touch. She pressed herself closer to him and pulled her lips away from his, moved them down his neck and along his collarbone.

"Definitely an angel," Damon muttered. He placed a hand on her check, tilted her head up to him and kissed her once more before he pulled away. "And for the record, that's a nearly proper good morning." Elena furrowed her brow.

"Nearly proper?" she asked. Damon's response was to smirk, implying that a proper good morning involved something much more indecent than the heated kiss they'd just shared. She quickly turned back to the stove to hide her blush.

"Can I help?" Damon asked.

"I'm nearly done," Elena replied as she turned the stove back on. "Can you pour us some coffee?"

"Cream? Sugar?" he asked.

"Both," Elena replied. She plated their meal and joined Damon at the kitchen island, placing a plate in front of him as he slid a mug of coffee to her. "I hope it's okay that I raided your kitchen. I woke up and realized the power was back on, so I thought I'd make breakfast. It's the least I could do since you let me stray here last night."

"I'm never going to say no to a home cooked meal," Damon replied. "And just so you know, you didn't have to cook breakfast." He took a bite of the French toast. It wasn't half bad. "But I'm really glad you did." Elena laughed lightly and start to cut up her own breakfast. They ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, neither feeling the need to fill the air with conversation.

"When was the last time you slept with a girl but didn't actually sleep with her?" Elena asked. Damon nearly choked on the piece of bacon in his mouth.

"What?"

"I'm not dumb, Damon," Elena told him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "You were rather forward with me at your father's funeral, inviting me into a coat closet. And I had more than a few tailored suits use similar lines during my time in New York."

"I was rather forward," Damon said, but made no attempt to apologize for his behavior. "Blame the grief. Although you shouldn't have been wearing such a suggestive dress at such a somber occasion." Elena narrowed her eyes at him.

"There was nothing suggestive about…" He shut her up by kissing her once more, finding it ever harder to keep his hands off of her. When he pulled away, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"I assure you, your hemline wasn't nearly long enough to prevent me from thinking impure thoughts," he said, his lips close to hers. "And to answer your question, it's been a really long time." He went back to his breakfast then, leaving Elena speechless, both from his kiss and his bluntness. She just looked at him, trying to figure him out. He noticed. "I know I'm good looking, but your breakfast is getting cold." She narrowed her eyes at him then, but turned back to her breakfast, getting a laugh out of Damon.

"What makes you think you're so good looking?" Elena asked just before biting into a piece of fruit.

"You can't keep your eyes off me."

"I'm not looking at you now."

"I'm looking at you."

"And?"

"And my shirt looks good on you." Elena glanced at him then, a faint blush coloring her cheeks for the second time that morning.

"You're incorrigible," she told him.

"And you are ineluctable," he replied. Elena shook her head in amusement, both at his vocabulary which was clearly expansive and his insistence that she was irresistible. She was opening her mouth with a retort when their bubble was interrupted.

"Damon!" Stefan's voice rang out through the house.

"I'm going to murder him," Damon growled, just as Stefan appeared in the kitchen.

"Did you know…" Stefan stopped in his tracks, realizing Damon wasn't alone. His eyes fell on Elena, sitting close to Damon, wearing one of his brother's t-shirts. He did need his medical degree to figure out the pair had had a sleepover. "Sorry," he said hurriedly. "I didn't realize you had company."

"Obviously," Damon huffed. He speared a remaining piece of fruit with more force than was necessary.

"Hey, Stefan," Elena said, feeling self-conscious. She and Stefan were strictly platonic, but that didn't stop her from feeling like she'd just been caught making out with a boy by her parents.

"Elena," Stefan greeted, doing his best not to make things even more awkward.

"So, yet again, why are you here?" Damon asked, annoyance thick in his voice. Elena saw the briefest flash of hurt pass through Stefan's eyes.

"Damon," she admonished. He gave her a look that was somewhere between annoyed and, if she dared to think it, embarrassed at being called out about his behavior.

"Rebekah and I are going to the festival this evening," he answered. "I thought I'd crash here for a few hours before I meet Rebekah." He shook his head as though he were shaking off a thought of some sort. "Did you know that big oak at the end of the driveway fell during the storm?" he asked Damon.

"No," Damon answered honestly. "Not surprised though. It got rough." Stefan glanced at Elena for a moment, aware of her disdain for storms. "And judging by your presence, it's not blocking the drive."

"It's not," Stefan confirmed. "It fell parallel to the main road, took out a big section of the fence. You'll need to call the landscaper to clean it up and then someone to repair the fence." Damon frowned.

"Why do I need to call the landscaper?"

"You're the executor," he reminded him. Damon opened his mouth to state his exact feelings on both the idea of being the executor and the fact that he had to be the one to call half of Mystic Falls to clean up a tree when he remembered Elena was in the room.

"I'll deal with it later," he said instead.

"There's some French toast and bacon left if you're hungry," Elena offered. Damon pierced his lips together but didn't say anything. Stefan knew his brother well enough, however, and knew it was best to make himself scarce.

"Thanks, Elena, but I'm beat. I'm going to head upstairs, get some sleep."

"Night, night little brother," Damon said. Stefan nodded at him and gave Elena a wave before he disappeared.

"You two really don't get along," Elena observed, confused by the interaction she'd just witnessed. It was the first time she'd been in a room with the pair of them outside of the funeral and it was clear that there was a significant amount of tension between them, especially from Damon.

"Like I said, we have our differences," Damon replied. He stood to place his empty plate in the sink. "More coffee?"

The topic was closed for discussion.

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><p>Damon was in his zone. Yesterday had marked the first Saturday of college football and while he'd spent most of the day watching games and working after his run with Elena, he'd still missed a number of games he was invested in, including the official season kickoff game between Alabama and West Virginia in primetime. While he didn't regret the evening spent with Elena, it had left him behind on tracking players eligible to declare for the NFL draft.<p>

He'd set up shop in the boarding house's media room, his laptop open to his flooded inbox, his iPad set up nearby to act as a second screen, displaying stats and scores from the previous day. The giant TV was turned to ESPN which was airing hours of highlights alongside previews of the NFL season which kicked off on Thursday. He fired off an email to his assistant, a young kid just out of college that reminded him a lot of himself, and then opened a contract to read over, this one about an appearance by one of his NFL players at a charity gala in Manhattan in a few weeks. He'd have to attend, much to his dismay. Black tie events were his least favorite part of his job, but they were prime networking opportunities.

He'd done his best to keep up with his work while in Mystic Falls, but with success came more work, more offers. He'd hired his first employees over the summer and while he was happy with their performance, he'd had a hard time delegating tasks that had once been solely up to him which was why he was working on a Sunday afternoon. He was afforded another half hour no interruptions before Stefan entered the room, looking refreshed after several hours of sleep.

"It's like a command center in here," he said, taking a seat in one of the overstuffed armchairs.

"I'm working," Damon replied.

"Elena gone?"

"Yeah. She left not too long after breakfast. I called the landscaping company, by the way. They can't be here until Monday. Apparently there are plenty of other trees down that are blocking roads or landed on houses that they have to take care of first."

"Figured they'd be pretty slammed," Stefan replied. He went quiet for a while, watching game highlights, but observing Damon from the corner of his eye. It was an image he was struggling to reconcile with the many other images he had of his big brother from over the years. Damon was focused, looking up from his computer screen only long enough to watch a couple of highlights or check his iPad. He took a call at one point, barking orders at someone about a NASCAR event. He mumbled to himself as he read an email, screwing his face up in concentration as he tried to make sense of it. His phone rang again and this time, Stefan could tell it was one of his clients.

The Damon Stefan knew was reckless. As the younger brother, he'd watched Damon closely growing up, took in his actions and at times, wanted to be just like him. But he'd been wired differently, it seemed, never able to so much as skip a class without feeling guilty. His father had told him once that he was like his mother, compassionate and kind, eager to do good in the face of wrong. Damon was more like their father, right down to the devil may care attitude and the crystal blue eyes.

Stefan had spent much of his life just trying to be Damon's friend. They were brothers, but even as children, Damon had largely ignored him, opting to hide away in his room or the library. Stefan had liked it when he'd find Damon in the library. A love of literature was the one thing they had in common and in turn, the one thing he could count on to create conversation with his brother, at least until Damon had hit his teen years and become even more sullen and defiant.

Stefan didn't have to search far in his mind's eye to dig up memories of Damon and their father locked in a heated arguments. Voices were rarely raised. Neither of them needed to raise their voice to get their point across. But the arguments had been passionate and almost always resulted in Damon storming off. Sometimes he'd come home a few hours later. Sometimes a few days later. Giuseppe had stopped calling Liz Forbes after a while, assuming his eldest son would turn up eventually. He always did.

When Damon had left right after graduation, Stefan had known it was different. There was nothing holding him in Mystic Falls now that he had a diploma, a diploma Stefan strongly suspected Damon only achieved because their mother would have wanted him to. It had been months before he'd returned. He'd shown up in the early morning hours, went straight to his room, and slept past lunch. He'd stuck around for two days before taking off again, his response to yet another fight with their father, this one over Damon's plans now that high school was over.

What Stefan never figured out is why Damon came back at all. It had been fourteen years since he'd graduated Mystic Falls High School. Over the course of that time, Damon had shown up a couple times a year, usually around a holiday, staying a day or two, before taking off again. Yet despite the short visits and his general unpleasantness while he was there, Damon kept coming back. There was a reason for it and now that Stefan had grown into a man himself, he was determined to figure it out.

"This all work and no play Damon is different," he commented, looking over at Damon who had gotten comfortable on the couch once more, his feet propped on an ottoman. "Although I'm not sure your clients have ever seen you in sweatpants and a t-shirt."

"They haven't," Damon confirmed. "It's football season. This is where I make my money."

"Don't you have a couple of big name basketball players on your roster?"

"A few baseball players too. A NASCAR driver. Two hockey players. But they don't bring in the same figures as the guys wearing shoulder pads."

"It keeps you busy." He was making awkward small talk with his own brother. The thought was almost laughable.

"It puts money in the bank," Damon replied as he typed out another email. Stefan decided to change the subject to something he was sure Damon would respond to.

"How did Elena do last night?" Stefan asked. "She doesn't like storms."

"I figured that out pretty quick," Damon said in a clipped tone that Stefan found unnecessary. "She was fine. She was with me."

"You know why she's afraid of storms?" It was low, using information he knew about Elena to create a conversation with his brother, but he knew it would get his attention.

"It was storming the night her parents died. Makes sense, seeing as it was a traumatic life event and all."

"That was one of the scariest nights of my life," Stefan remembered. "When I heard Elena was in an accident and there were fatalities…"

"Elena was in the accident?" Damon asked, cutting him off, his attention suddenly fully on the conversation Stefan was trying to have.

"She was," Stefan confirmed. "We were at a party. She was dating Matt at the time and they got in a fight. She called her parents to come pick her up. They hydroplaned going over Wickery Bridge and went off the side. Grayson Gilbert managed to get Elena out of the car, but died trying to save his wife." Damon shook his head.

"She didn't tell me she was with them."

"She doesn't talk about it much," Stefan said. "She talks about her parents all the time, but never the accident."

"Can't say I blame her," Damon said. "The sudden death of a parent isn't something I like to go on about either." They both knew Damon was speaking of their mother.

"She was a mess," Stefan remembered. "She was trying to deal with their deaths, adjust to having Jenna as her guardian, and keep Jeremy out of trouble which was no small feat there for a while. He did more drugs that summer than Willie Nelson does on tour."

"Knew I liked that kid," Damon muttered.

"She's one of the strongest people I know," Stefan concluded.

The conversation ended, Damon going back to work although more distracted now with thoughts of Elena and his mother, Stefan turning his attention back to the TV. More than an hour passed with the two brothers in a peaceful silence. Damon's phone rang again, breaking the quiet.

"Hey," he said into the speaker. "You get home?" Damon waited while the person on the other end of the phone replied. He smiled. "That was your own fault," he said. "Didn't you tell me you were avoiding Caroline at all cost today?"

Elena was on the phone, Stefan realized. His first clue had been the tone of Damon's voice which was softer, somehow. With the mention of avoiding Caroline, he knew it could be no one else.

"Still wearing my shirt?" he asked. He realized Stefan was listening and stood, leaving the room. Stefan smirked. Damon would talk to a client about his affair not going public in the same room, but the moment Elena called, he was all about privacy. He returned 10 minutes later, no longer on the phone but wearing the slightest of grins. Stefan grinned himself.

"You like her," he stated.

"She's insanely hot and insanely smart. What's not to like?" Damon asked, taking his seat once more.

"No," Stefan said with a shake of his head. "You like _like_ her." Damon made a face.

"Like, like?" he asked. "When did you become a twelve year old girl?"

"You know what I mean," Stefan said with a wave of his hand. "You like Elena. More than you typically like a woman." When Damon didn't reply right away, Stefan knew he had him.

"Don't worry about me and Elena," he finally said. "It's nothing." But Stefan knew it wasn't nothing. He chose his next words carefully.

"Elena is a great girl," he said. "She looked happy with you this morning. So did you. If you have a chance at happiness, you should take it." He stood up then and left the room to get ready for his date with Rebekah, leaving Damon alone with his thoughts.

* * *

><p>Damon was barely listening as the man – Peter, he thought his name was – rambled on about the Salvatore Timber employees. Someone had a baby recently, another was planning to retire soon. Someone else nearly cut their finger off mowing their lawn over the weekend which was ironic since he worked at a saw mill. He assumed these were important details, at least to someone, but he was too busy taking in everything around him to give them much thought.<p>

It had been more than a decade since he'd been to the lumber yard. His memories held a very different image of the place, one of men working to feed large logs through machines, of trucks loaded down with freshly cut trees lining the yard, awaiting their turn at the mill. It had been a hands on place, full of blue collars, sweat and sawdust.

Most of that image was still in place. There were trucks of logs everywhere he looked. A thin layer of sawdust covered everything, including his boots, and woodchips flew from the many sawmills in use. But instead of men manhandling massive logs through dangerous machines, the operation was largely computerized. People were still working hard, but they sat at machines to man the controls, keeping them out of harm's way. He was fascinated. It was a well-oiled machine, from the time a load of logs arrived until they were shipped out to big box home improvement stores and private contractors.

Beside him, Peter dropped his monologue about the personal lives of employees and turned to telling Damon about their exotic lumber business, how they were carefully regulated to ensure they weren't using any wood protected by one act or another. He nodded, coming back to the conversation now that the personnel updates had seemingly ran out, and fired off question after question, asking about everything from logistics to supply and demand. Peter answered easily, having been around for the better part of twenty years.

"I know you're a big city sports agent these days, but you must be pretty proud of what the Salvatore family has created," Peter said. They had stopped on the edge of the lumber yard where piles of boards of every quality and material stacked several stories high stretched as far as they could see. Trucks were lined up along one side, being loaded down for transport.

"It is impressive," Damon agreed. "I had no idea. I haven't been here in years."

"This place has been in your family for more than seventy years," Peter said. There was an air of awe in his voice "Your grandfather started this yard with a single machine and one employee."

"He did," Damon confirmed. He'd heard the story a number of times about how his grandfather had come to America with little to his name and a family to feed. He forgot from time to time that the Salvatore line hadn't always been millionaires. He rubbed his hand across his chest absentmindedly, feeling suddenly nostalgic about his heritage. He offered his hand to Peter. "Thanks for showing me around."

"Anytime," Peter replied, shaking Damon's hand. "I hope to see more of you around here." Damon nodded politely and excused himself, allowing Peter to get back to work. As he wandered back through the mill towards the parking lot, he let his thoughts drift.

Something was happening to him. In the two or so weeks he'd been in Mystic Falls, something inside him had shifted. He'd arrived with every intention of getting in and out as quickly as possible, same as always, and had been dismayed when he'd realized he'd be there longer than anticipated. At the time, it had thrown a major wrench in his plans, resulting in rescheduling meetings and canceling business lunches. But the town was growing on him. It was increasingly more difficult to hold a grudge against the place and everything it reminded him of.

He'd never had a banana nut muffin as good as the ones at the coffee shop. They were baked fresh daily and were sold out by nine most mornings. The Grill had a surprisingly decent selection of both bourbon and scotch and the food wasn't half bad either. There wasn't much by way of shopping aside from a few local boutiques, but Charlottesville was just forty-five minutes away and while he wouldn't be getting an Armani suit there anytime soon, it was a thriving college town with good food and a decent music scene.

More than that though, he felt calm in Mystic Falls. He loved New York. He loved the pace, the nightlife, the fact that he could have any food he could dream up delivered to his door at any hour, day or night. But he always felt rushed, wound tight. He always had somewhere to be, a meeting or a fundraiser or some social outing to attend. In Mystic Falls, the anxious feeling that quietly plagued him in New York was virtually nonexistent. He found himself getting more work done in less time. He had read more in two weeks than he had in two months. He had laughed more than he had in at least a year.

He wasn't naïve. Elena had nearly everything to do with his shift of perception. He hadn't actually seen her in a couple of days, not since she'd left the boarding house Sunday morning, but he'd talked to her several times, trading texts throughout the day, spending an increasing amount of time on the phone come nighttime, talking about how she was doing with her latest deadline, what Damon had accomplished that day. Normal stuff he didn't have anyone to talk to about in New York.

In a week, Chester would read his father's will. He'd arrived in town waiting for that moment, just so he could leave again. Now, he almost didn't want it to come. With the reading of the will would come the need to make decisions. He'd have to go back to New York – his life was there – but he suddenly couldn't see himself completely cutting Mystic Falls out of his life. Elena was there and just as suddenly, he couldn't see himself cutting her out of his life either.

And that scared him to his very core.

He'd put his heart on the line once before and if he were honest with himself, was still recovering from having it ripped out of his chest and stomped on a few times for good measure. Yet the idea of going back to the life he'd embraced both before and after Katherine Pierce, one of sleeping with a new woman every other night, of drinking too much and waking up to feel the pain a little more acutely each day, wasn't as appealing as it had been when his plane had landed at the Charlottesville airport.

His phone buzzed. He retrieved it from the inside pocket of his leather jacket and smiled when he saw Elena's text message. It was a photo of her laptop, coffee mug and a notebook and pen on a patio table, the lake in the background. She'd captioned it "_Happy Wednesday_." He replied with a cheeky "_I'd make that view look even better_" and waited for her response which came quickly. "_You haven't seen the pastry I'm about to eat for lunch_." He laughed out loud then and pocketed his phone as he reached his car, deciding to give her a call, just to say hello, once he got to the boarding house.

He had to figure out where things were going with Elena. He liked her, just as Stefan had so confidently called him out on. But he wasn't sure what that meant. He'd never seen himself settling down, having a family. That was Stefan's style. It was also Elena's. Even with Katherine, they'd agreed on no children, neither willing to give up their selfish lifestyles. Yet he'd actually liked having Ella around, didn't totally hate the feeling he'd gotten somewhere around the edges of his heart when she'd kissed his cheek goodbye. There was the smallest part of him that was starting to think a white picket fence wouldn't be so bad.

He'd known life would get complicated when he'd flown down for his father's funeral. Making funeral arrangements for a man he had no relationship with was the very definition of complicated. But he hadn't expected for things to get this problematic.

He hadn't expected Elena.

* * *

><p><strong>And there you have it! Not as much Damon and Elena interacting as the last couple of updates, but a lot of Damon and Elena nonetheless. Let me know what you think!<br>**


	9. Katherine

**You all are making it so easy for me to continue writing this! I love reading all of your reviews - thank you so much for taking the time to leave them. They mean the world to me!**

**Consider this a sort of "part one" of the next update. This and the next one will be a turning point of sorts but as the next one is quite long, I chopped it off into two parts. No worries though - there's some Damon and Elena in this one! I've got several updates ready to go - so much fun writing this!  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Elena stepped out onto her porch with a smile.<p>

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," Stefan replied, climbing out of his Porsche. "Looks like fall is coming early out here." He gestured at the lake, the trees surrounding it already starting to change colors in their very tops although it was just early September.

"It always does," Elena confirmed. "Fall seems to last a little longer out here too. In another month or so, this will be one of the most beautiful places on earth."

"Most of the time, I think you're crazy for living up here all by yourself," Stefan said as he climbed the porch stairs. "But it is beautiful out here."

"And peaceful," Elena agreed. "After all that time in New York, the quiet does me good." She opened the front door. "Come on, I just took a pizza out of the oven."

"You're feeding me?" he asked, following her inside.

"Technically, I'm feeding myself. It's lunchtime. You happen to be here."

"Fair enough."

For the next few minutes, the two old friends moved in relative silence, Elena slicing pizza, Stefan filling glasses with ice and sweet tea. Elena led the way to her patio, deciding it was too pretty of a day to spend much of it inside. She'd been spending most of her time out there lately, writing and reading. Talking to Damon. Settling into chairs, the lake in the background, Elena got down to business.

"So, what brings you all the way out to the lake?" she asked. "You were pretty insistent that we meet here."

"I didn't want to run the risk of Damon joining us," Stefan admitted. He looked guilty. Elena fixed him with a hard look.

"Stefan, if you're here to warn me to stay away from your brother…," she started.

"I'm not," Stefan said, cutting her off by holding up his hands. "My reasoning for being here is twofold but singular in concern."

"Twofold but singular in concern," Elena repeated, thinking over his words. "We're still talking about Damon." Stefan nodded.

"Have you seen him since the storm?" A few days had passed since Elena's night at the Salvatore Boarding House. Stefan had worked another 48 hours shift and had barely seen Damon since Sunday, but he hoped Elena had.

"No. I had a deadline for my new book and then a piece I had to turn in for the Mystic Falls Times about the founding families. I've talked to him several times though. Sounds like he's been busy, watching football highlights, closing endorsement deals."

"That's Damon," Stefan said. Elena couldn't be sure, but she thought there was the slightest hint of envy in his voice. He looked at her. "He likes you, you know."

"I like him too," Elena admitted, almost embarrassed. She liked him more than she wanted to. More than she should. But she wasn't ready to confess all to Stefan.

"I know you do," Stefan said with a kind smile. "It was pretty clear when you were sitting beside him in our kitchen, wearing his t-shirt and looking like you belonged there." Elena felt her cheeks flush. It had been years since she and Stefan were anything more than friends, but it was the still slightest bit awkward, discussing what was clearly a more intimate moment between herself and his older brother.

"Where are you going with this, Stefan?" she asked. She'd been dying of curiosity ever since he'd called to ask if they could get together and talk about a few things he had on his mind. The call had been cryptic, Stefan insisting he would drive the hour to the lake house rather than Elena meet him somewhere, not even at the small diner halfway between the lake and Mystic Falls. Stefan sighed.

"Damon likes you," he repeated. "I don't think I need to tell you he's known for a more – provocative – way of behavior."

"I'm well aware of Damon's reputation," Elena said, growing uncomfortable. Stefan had said he wasn't there to warn her about Damon, but it sure sounded like it to her.

"You realize that's all an act, right?" he said. "A way to protect himself?" Elena picked up her glass of tea.

"It's become fairly obvious that there is more to Damon than what meets the eye," she said. "He can be thoughtful and kind when he wants to be. Sweet even. And then he flips a switch and the bad boy swagger comes roaring back."

"Damon is self-destructive," Stefan told her, not bothering to beat around the bush. "Always has been. If you ask him, he'll give you a very different story about our childhood than the one I remember. He went out of his way to provoke our father. Drag racing, underage drinking… There was more than a few instances of pot smoking. He barely graduated high school, had the truant officer at the house at least once a week. I'm not saying Dad was perfect. He wasn't. But he tried to be a good parent – to both of us – even when Damon made it almost impossible.

"Back then, I thought Damon was just a rebel, living by his own rules, blazing his own path. Part of me envied him for that. Now, I realize he was acting out. He had demons, even back then. Dad would come down on him, try to make him do right, behave, go to school. Damon's answer would be to get brought home by Sheriff Forbes – I guess Deputy Forbes back then – for public intoxication. He hasn't changed all that much. Except instead of breaking laws, he sleeps around, drinks too much and throws around his money."

"I'm not sure where this is going," Elena said wearily. She knew Damon had a dark side, but Stefan was painting a more vivid picture than she was prepared for. Stefan sighed. He was about to get incredibly personal and was definitely about to overstep his boundaries. Damon would be furious when he inevitably found out, but he'd made up his mind and he was going to follow through.

"Damon won't like it when he finds out I've told you what I'm about to tell you," he started. "But I want to have a relationship with my brother. He's the only family I have. I don't know him well, but I know him well enough to know you're different. He treats you with respect. Hell, he's been out with you more than once. And I'm hoping the fact that you're different – that Damon is different with you – will ultimately help me." Stefan stopped and took another breath.

"Go on…," Elena urged, bursting with curiosity. Stefan looked nervous.

"Damon was engaged." Elena's mouth fell open, but before she could start to question Stefan, he hurried on with his story. "Her name was Katherine and she was horrible. Absolutely and completely horrible. I only met her twice but it was two times too many. She was rude and spiteful, completely manipulative. She was with Damon for his money. She was a model or an actress or something like that.

"Damon was head over heels. My guess is that he only saw her looks – I will admit that she was strikingly beautiful – and she was sneaky and manipulative enough to wrap him around her perfectly manicured finger. My brother can be pretty manipulative himself, but she beat him at his own game, tricked him into falling in love with her without returning the sentiment. I'm willing to bet a significant portion of my trust fund that she tricked him into proposing.

"Regardless, he was going to marry her. He was proud of her. He even brought her to Mystic Falls the Christmas before last. Dad didn't like her from almost the moment she walked in. He said she had a _cuore malato_ and an _anima oscura_ – a bad heart and a dark soul. He tried to talk to Damon, man to man, about his concerns. It went about as well as expected and they left almost as soon as they arrived. We didn't hear from Damon for months. I only knew he was alive by the occasional article on one of his clients he shared on Facebook.

"Damon came home early from a business trip, about a year ago now. He was trying to do the whole model husband thing, strike a balance between work and his personal life, be more present. Apparently they'd had a big fight because he missed some wrap party for a shoot she did and he'd promised to be more supportive of her work. He walked into their apartment thinking she'd be thrilled to see him and instead, found Katherine in bed with one of his clients.

"He was devastated. He let someone into his heart, let himself love someone, and they shattered him. I only know all of this because I'd been trying to get in touch with him, let him know Dad was sick again and that it was much more serious this time. He picked up the phone halfway through a bottle of scotch and just started spilling his guts. I'm not sure he even realized it was me. Or if he remembers doing it, because I had to tell him about Dad all over again the next day. He's been at his worse since."

"He had his heart broken," Elena said thoughtfully. "I've had my heart broke a time or two. And in the middle of all of that, he found out his father was dying. I can understand him being a bit – standoffish with people." Stefan shook his head.

"He's built up walls. He doesn't have friends, barely speaks to me. He was all business when our father died, didn't so much as tear up during the funeral. Instead, he got drunk and had a quickie in the closet." Elena felt a quick wave of jealousy wash over her as she thought back to the blonde she'd seen him talking to after she'd turned him down at the repass. "He keeps his emotions in check, covers them up with sarcasm. He doesn't let anyone get close." Stefan settled both eyes on Elena. "Except you." She shook her head.

"I'm no closer to him than anyone else," she said. "We've been spending time together, but he's only here for another week or so. It's not like we're going to ride off into the sunset together." Stefan drummed his fingers on the table, thinking as he talked.

"That's the thing. You've gotten under Damon's skin. I know you have. He's not obvious about it, but he has his tells. The fact that he's not bragging about how he's 'landed' you is one of them. I've seen him post about his conquests on Facebook, Elena." She made a disgusted face. "He's keeping you to himself as much as possible. He doesn't want the rest of his life – the life he has in New York – to taint you. He doesn't want you to see that side of him."

"I still don't understand what you're doing here," Elena said with a shake of her head. She was confused. She'd known there was much more to Damon than what met the eye, but here Stefan was, laying big pieces to the puzzle on the table. She wasn't sure what to make of it all and she knew she still didn't have all the pieces. She was taking mental notes as Stefan talked, settling on the fact that she'd have to think about everything later, once she was alone again. Stefan sighed.

"Do you have feelings for my brother?" he asked bluntly. Elena started at the question.

"Stefan, I've known Damon for less than a month and for part of it, I thought he was disgusting and vile and tried to avoid him. I like him, but whether I have feelings for him…"

"But you feel _something _for him," Stefan pushed. There were times when he still knew Elena better than she knew herself and this was one of those times. "That something may not have a label yet, but when you see him, when you hear his voice on the other end of the phone, you feel _something, _right?" Slowly, Elena nodded.

"Yes," she admitted. "Butterflies." Stefan nodded in agreement. It was clear as day to him that Elena felt something for his brother, even if she tried to deny it.

"When Damon inevitably self-destructs, I'm asking you to fight for him," he told her. "If, at that point in time, you still have feelings for him, fight for him. Push back when he tries to push you away. Don't let him ruin the good in his life because of his own self-loathing." Elena looked at Stefan for several long moments, thinking.

"You're trying to protect him," she stated, realizing Stefan was trying to help his brother through the one person they both shared some level of a relationship with since Damon kept him at arms length.

"As much as I can," Stefan agreed. "I want him to be happy. And you seem to make him happy. He just needs someone in his corner, you know? Someone willing to fight for him. He's not as alone as he thinks he is."

"You're a good brother," Elena told him seriously. Stefan shook his head.

"I'm trying to be," he told her. "But Damon makes it hard." She let out a short chuckle as did Stefan, both aware that Damon was difficult when he wanted to be and often just because he could be.

"You said your reason for visiting was twofold," Elena said, remembering what Stefan had said earlier. "What's the second part of this?" Stefan looked guilty.

"I need you to talk to him about me," he said. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"Talk to him about you? Is this like that time in eighth grade when you liked Caroline and wanted me to talk to her to find out if she liked you too?"

"I've been compared to a middle schooler twice since Sunday," Stefan replied with a snort. "I need to get out of the hospital for longer than a day and work on my social skills."

"Who else compared you to a middle schooler?"

"Damon," Stefan answered dismissively. "I need you to help me figure out why Damon hates me." Elena frowned.

"He doesn't hate you," she said with confidence. Stefan nodded.

"He does," he said simply. "At the very least, he strongly dislikes me. He always has. Growing up, I figured it was because I'm the little brother and little brothers are supposed to be annoying or whatever. But now that we're older, I know there's more to it. He blames me for our mother's death. And whatever animosity he feels towards me stems from that."

"Stefan, how could he blame you for that?" Elena asked. "She died giving birth to you. It's sad, but it was a one in thousands of women sort of thing."

"I know it wasn't my fault, but I don't think Damon does," Stefan replied. "Damon, he's an enigma. I try to understand him, but just when I think I'm making headway, he goes off the rails and surprises me all over again." He shook his head sadly. "I can't tell you the last time we had a real conversation."

"You talk," Elena insisted. "You live in the same house…"

"I don't technically live there, as Damon likes to remind me whenever he can, despite the fact that he doesn't technically live there either. We make small talk, trade barbs, but we don't talk." He chuckled. "I sound desperate," he admitted.

"Damon is the only family you have left," Elena replied. "I get it. I'd be doing the same thing if it were Jeremy. I did do the same thing, remember? In high school, after our parents died and Jeremy was coping with drugs and alcohol? I did whatever I could to get through to him, protect him. I won't make you any promises, but I'll try to talk to Damon."

"Thank you," Stefan said genuinely. Elena nodded once in response, then decided to change the subject before she committed to anything else Damon-related. She needed to think and she couldn't process any additional information at this point.

"So, how are things with you and Rebekah?" Stefan's face lit up with a smile as soon as the words left Elena's mouth. She grinned. "That good, huh?"

"I'm happy," Stefan said with a nod. "I'm really happy."

"I'm glad," Elena told him sincerely. "She's a great girl. And she loves you."

"I'm going home with her for Thanksgiving, to meet her family," Stefan confessed.

"It's getting serious," Elena commented with raised eyebrows.

"She has four older brothers," Stefan replied heavily, knowing he could reveal his fear of the Mikelson men to his old friend. "Four." Elena laughed.

"Nervous?"

"One of them is a rugby player. Another one is a lawyer. There's one that's a stockbroker or something like that. And then there's Kol who according to Rebekah, is a lost cause, but I'm anticipating that he can still kick my ass in the name of his little sister. And she's a daddy's girl. I'm screwed."

"They'll love you," Elena assured him. "Every mother wants her daughter to marry a doctor and fathers want them to find someone who will take care of them. You fit the bill, perfectly." Stefan leaned back and propped his feet up on an empty chair.

"Let's talk about something else besides my impending beat down at the hands of the Mikelson men," he said. "How's that new book coming along?"

* * *

><p>"Bourbon or scotch, Mr. Salvatore?"<p>

"Bourbon," Damon told the bartender he'd come to know was named Emmy. "Pour me two and start a tab. And don't call me Mr. Salvatore." He didn't bother to tell her to call him by his first name or any other name. He didn't care what she called him so long as it wasn't "Mr. Salvatore." Anywhere else, that would have been fine, even expected. But in Mystic Falls, the name only made him think of his father.

"Sure thing," Emmy replied. Damon glanced around The Grill while he waited. It was early yet, the bar and grill sparsely populated. A few high school students, released from the classroom a half hour ago, were scattered in clusters across the restaurant, snacking on fries and drinking milkshakes. He wanted to snort at how picturesque it was. He also wanted to embrace it. He was watching two lanky boys, likely freshmen, given their size, attempt to play pool when something hit him firmly in his upper arm.

"What the hell?" he said, whirling around to find Alaric sliding onto the barstool next to him.

"The women in my life can't stop talking about you and its pissing me off," Ric stated. Emmy arrived with Damon's drinks and he slid one to Alaric, making good on his promise to buy the first round in exchange for Elena's phone number.

"What can I say? The women in your life have good taste."

"Elena's all 'Damon this, Damon that.' Jenna likes to bend my ear about how she thinks you're a bad influence. And my kid? My kid thinks you hung the moon thanks to a damn stuffed bear." Damon smirked.

"Elena talks about me?" he asked.

"So I'm told," Ric said with a shrug. "I haven't actually seen her since the festival, but according to my wife, she mentions you frequently." Damon grinned as he took a long swig from his glass.

"Then I'm doing my job," he said smugly.

"She's my niece," Alaric warned. "I'd like to continue to think of her as the bratty 18 year old arguing with Jenna over the length of the split in her prom dress."

"Your wish, my command," Damon responded. "Although she did bring something to my attention that I would now like to bring to yours. What's this I hear about you winning drag races in that rust bucket you called a Mustang?" Ric laughed and the two launched into good-natured ribbing that turned into reminiscing and stories about what they'd done since their high school days.

They were halfway through a bottle of bourbon when Damon realized he liked this. He liked sitting at a bar, drinking with an old friend and reminiscing. He liked hearing about Ric's students, a few of whom had stopped by to take digs at their history teacher for enjoying an alcoholic beverage after a day spent with them, something they could do in a small town like Mystic Falls because everyone knew Ric was one of good guys, despite his penchant for fine liquor. He liked hearing about Ella and even Jenna and could practically feel how much Ric loved the women in his life.

He himself didn't have much to share outside of stories about work. He talked about his travels, about things he'd seen and done, but he had quickly realized he didn't have stories that involved friends. He certainly didn't have stories about his better half burning grilled cheese sandwiches or his daughter flushing blocks down the toilet. He had Super Bowls and World Series games, but those didn't seem quite as appealing at the moment. He was laughing as Ric vented about the high school's current quarterback's inflated ego when he heard a welcomed voice.

"Looks like you two are having fun."

He turned on his barstool to find Elena standing behind him. She looked stunning in a simple sundress, her straight hair in a ponytail. She was wearing little makeup, the smile on her face the only accessory she needed. He felt his own smile spread across his face.

"Ric is regaling me with tales from the hallowed halls of Mystic Falls High," Damon answered. "What could be more fun than that?"

"A root canal," Ric replied dryly, making Elena laugh. She knew he loved his job, no matter how much he complained about the teens he taught.

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked. He hadn't known she had planned to be in town. He would have made it a point to see her if he had.

"Caroline," Elena answered, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to indicate a small booth for two in the corner where Caroline was engrossed in what Damon felt confident in guessing were wedding magazines. "I had to go to Charlottesville today and she called as I was driving back. So, now I'm looking at photos of bouquets because apparently I can't drive _through_ Mystic Falls and not stop _in_ Mystic Falls.

"Sounds like a rip roaring good time," Damon replied.

"Does Caroline do anything besides plan her wedding?" Ric asked. Damon pointed at him and gave him a nod to show he agreed. He'd wondered the same thing. Elena looked amused at their agreement, knowing Caroline had been rather consumed with her early spring wedding as of late.

"She's marrying her high school sweetheart," she told them. "She's excited. She's allowed to be. She's one of those girls who dreamed about their wedding since they were little and now its all coming true."

"Still, she should take a breath," Ric said. "Maybe read a newspaper and give Martha Stewart a break." He reached for the bottle of bourbon between him and Damon that Emmy had left after their last refill and poured his glass half full. Elena looked at Damon.

"I was going to call you, let you know I was here," she ventured.

"And that's my cue to go check out the jukebox," Ric said, not willing to hear his friend hit on his niece when, as much as he liked Damon, he still hadn't decided where he stood on the two seeing one another. "I'll be back in three to five minutes."

"You were going to call, were you?" Damon asked Elena, ignoring Ric. He couldn't stop himself from reaching for her, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her a couple steps closer to him.

"I was hoping to accidentally on purpose run into you," she told him with a coy grin. "And here you are." He chuckled and glanced towards Caroline who was shooting a pointed look at Elena's back.

"And here I am," he agreed, turning back to Elena. He tucked a few loose strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. "If looks could kill, one of the two of us would be dead right now. Caroline is glaring daggers."

"She'll live," Elena said. "But I should get back to her. Our food should be out soon and the stack of bouquet photos she has isn't small. Are you going to be here for a while?" Damon nodded at his bottle of bourbon.

"Ric and I still have a ways to go," he said.

"Just make sure he can walk out of here under his own power," Elena advised. "He has to teach high schoolers in the morning. And face Jenna tonight."

"Jenna already dislikes me. May as well give her a reason to," he said.

"But Jenna does think you're hot," Elena quipped. "So you have that going for you."

"Does she?" Damon asked, his eyes sparkling, pulling Elena another couple steps closer to him. "And what about you?"

"I think you know how attractive you are and use it to your advantage," she told him.

"Which didn't work on you, if I recall. You turned me down at my own father's funeral."

"For so many reasons," Elena replied with another flash of undeserved jealousy as she thought about the blonde at the repass. She could practically feel Caroline's eyes burning a hole through her. "I really should get back to Caroline. Don't leave without saying goodbye."

"I won't," Damon promised. She turned to walk away, but Damon caught her hand and spun her around again. With one tug, she was in his arm and then his lips were on hers. It was a brief kiss, but it lit her whole body on fire.

"Just making sure _you_ don't leave without saying goodbye," he said as he pulled away.

"No worries there," Elena reported, a bit dazed from the spin and his kiss. He let her go then and watched her walk back to Caroline, aware of the eyes looking in their direction. He couldn't bring himself to care. He turned back to the bar as she slid into the booth with Caroline.

"Nice little show you put on there," Ric said, rejoining Damon.

"Your niece is quite the siren," Damon replied. He toasted Ric with his glass of bourbon. Ric reached for the bottle again.

"And that's my cue to drink more of this."

"And I'll drink to that," Damon replied. "Cheers." The pair clinked their glasses together and resumed their conversation, the bottle of bourbon slowly disappearing.

An hour and a half later, Damon was by himself at the bar, nursing the last of the bourbon. Between him and Alaric, a bottle had disappeared, but his alcohol tolerance was so high after years of binge drinking, he barely had a buzz. Ric had gone home, citing his wife, child and an early morning, while Damon opted to hang around and wait on Elena. He glanced over his shoulder to check that she was indeed still there. She caught his eye and gave him a smile, held up a finger to say she'd be ready in a minute, and turned back to Caroline. He turned back to the bar to wait, The Grill largely empty now.

"Walk me to my car?" came her voice a few minutes later.

"Gladly," Damon replied.

He polished off the last of his bourbon and gave the bartender Emmy a half salute as he slipped off the barstool, his tab already closed out for the night. He put a hand on the small of Elena's back and guided her through the restaurant. He felt protective of her, even though he knew she could take care of herself. They didn't speak until they arrived at her SUV.

"You're driving all the way out to the lake this late?" he asked.

"It's barely nine o'clock," Elena told him. "It's not that late."

"But it's a long drive…"

"Damon," Elena said with a hint of warning. He sighed and nodded his resignation.

"You'll let me know you got home safely?" he asked. He hated that he worried over her the way he did. It was completely out of character for him.

"I'll call you the very second I walk through my door," she promised with only a hint of sarcasm. She reached out and played with the collar of his black button down. "I was wondering, would you want to have dinner again? Tomorrow, maybe? I was thinking I could cook for us at the lake. If you want to drive out there, of course." Damon couldn't stop the wide grin that broke across his face.

"Elena Gilbert, are you asking me on a date?" he teased.

"Sounds like it," she replied with her own grin.

"Dinner sounds great," he agreed. "And I'll gladly drive to the middle of nowhere if it means seeing you." Elena blushed.

"Okay, then," she agreed. "Around six o'clock? I'll text you the address."

"I'll be there," Damon confirmed. He smiled at her and closed the distance between them. He stopped just short of her, leaving enough space between them so they weren't quite touching. He could feel the hum of electricity coursing between them. "It's good to see you, Elena. Even if it's brief."

"Agreed," Elena said. She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders. "It's much more fun to see you in person. Not that I don't enjoy our nightly phone calls."

"I especially liked the selfie you sent me earlier," Damon replied seriously. Elena laughed, thinking back to the photo she'd snapped on a whim while she'd been out for a run around the lake that morning.

"Me covered in sweat, so attractive," she said.

"You have no idea," Damon quipped.

He wouldn't have been able to stop himself if he tried as he gripped her hips once more and closed the little distance between them, landing another searing kiss on her lips. She responded, her hands clutching into fists around his shirt as she pulled him into her. He walked her a few steps backwards until she was pressed up against the side of her SUV. She ran a hand into his thick hair, let the other one drift along his hard chest. Damon had one arm locked securely around her waist, holding her to him, the other resting on the back of her neck. He groaned when she parted her lips, deepening the kiss further.

"Whoa," Elena sighed when they finally parted for air.

"You are going to be the death of me," he breathed, his forehead resting against hers.

"Likewise," she replied. He kissed her forehead and then pulled away, keeping one of her hands in his. There was something about her that made him feel like he needed to be touching her whenever he was around her.

"Call me when you get home," he told her again. "And please, Elena, be safe."

"I will," Elena promised. She leaned up and gave him another peck on his lips. He smiled and opened her door for her. Once she was safely behind the wheel, he gave her one last kiss, reminded her yet again to call him when she got home, and then stood back to watch her pull away from the curb. He turned to walk down the sidewalk to his own car, only to find Caroline standing in front of The Grill, glaring at him.

"Anything I can help you with, Wedding Barbie?" he asked in a bored voice.

"She's my best friend," Caroline replied.

"Really?" Damon feigned surprise. "My guess would have been personal assistant or perhaps wedding planner." Caroline's eyes narrowed, but she let the insult go. She had other things she wanted to address.

"She's falling for you," she informed him. "I was all for her going on a date with you. She needs to step out of her comfort zone every once in a while and I thought you would be perfect for that – a devil may care, rebel without a cause kind of guy, only in town for a short time. At most, I figured you'd convince her to go to bed with you, she'd have an orgasm, and you'd part ways. But here she is, falling for you, despite her better judgment."

Damon swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, his words not coming as quickly as they usually did. "Elena's a big girl," he told Caroline. "She can take care of herself."

"You better not hurt her," Caroline warned.

"Or what? You'll stomp on my foot wearing a pair of pink stilettos?" Caroline smirked.

"No. I'll kick you in the balls wearing my black Louboutins." It was Damon's turn to smirk.

"Barbie is tougher than she looks. Got a black belt underneath all those rhinestones?"

Caroline stalked towards him and looked like she was going to pass him before she stopped suddenly and grabbed him by the collar, surprisingly strong for her svelte form.

"In Tae Kwon Do," she confirmed. "And a fierce loyalty to my best friends too."

She let go of Damon and continued to walk away, her job done. He looked after her with a half grin on his face as he smoothed a hand over his now rumpled shirt. He shook his head. It was good to know Elena had friends like Caroline. Because even if he wanted to, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't hurt her eventually. It was just what he did.

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><p><strong>It's looking like I'll be snowed in for at least a couple of days so stay tuned for the "part two" update, by Tuesday at the latest! And maybe leave a review to keep me occupied while I'm going stir crazy from being unable to leave? :)<br>**

**I love how Damon is his same old self with everyone but Elena. There's a reason for that. ;) I keep forgetting how much further I am in writing than I am in posting - the story is developing quite nicely. **

**Thanks so much for reading! **


	10. Italian

**I said I'd update with "part two" of the last update by Tuesday. I almost made it - I missed it by 20 or so minutes. But its the longest chapter to date and I think those of you eager for more "Delena" will be satisfied. I hope you will, at least. I've been hard at work, writing away later chapters - this is turning in to one of my favorite things I've written in a while. **

**As I've said before, this story is just as much, if not more, about Damon's personal journey as it is about Damon and Elena falling for one another. Elena has been through a lot and came out the other side. Damon... He's got a ways to go. And I'm really enjoying writing his journey, some of which is seen below. **

**Thank you for being a part of it and for being so supportive - I appreciate you all!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Elena nervously wandered through her house, adjusting a photo here, a knickknack there. She had spent the day cleaning, vacuuming and dusting in between a trip to the grocery store and baking a peach cobbler for dessert. She loved her home, but it wasn't remotely as elegant or elaborate as the Salvatore Boarding House. She had remodeled when she'd moved in, breathing new life into the home which had remained largely unchanged since her parents' death. She had purged their rustic country motif, opting for a shabby chic, French cottage-inspired look with mismatched flea market pieces refurbished during afternoons on the dock with Caroline and Bonnie. It was comfortable and light and as far away from the dark woods and deep reds of the Salvatore Boarding House as it could be. The view, though, she thought as she glanced out a window in passing, was hard to compete with.<p>

Damon Salvatore had snuck up on her. It had been two weeks since their first date, three since she'd turned him down minutes after his father's coffin had been lowered into the ground. Somehow in those two weeks, he'd gotten under her skin, wormed his way into her thoughts and even interrupted her dreams with his piercing blue eyes and playful smirk. She almost hated him for it.

In her very core, she knew Damon. She couldn't explain it. She actually knew very little about him. She knew about his career and that he was a voracious reader, a fact she still couldn't quite comprehend as a love of literature went against the grain of the playboy façade he presented. She knew a bit about his family, more because of her time dating Stefan than from what Damon had told her, although there were still gaping holes she couldn't fill in. She knew about Damon's rebellious teen years and that he had an affinity for aged liquor.

But she didn't know how he took his coffee. She had no idea who his favorite football team was or if he left the top off the toothpaste. Did he prefer cats or dogs? Would he eat cold pizza for breakfast or pancakes for dinner? She didn't know how many times he hit the snooze button in the morning or if he liked driving or flying better. Did he drink milk straight from the carton, eat peanut butter straight from the jar? Own any clothing that wasn't black, navy or a white undershirt?

Then there were the big things, the mysteries that surrounded him. He kept his family at a distance, saw his father's death as nothing more than an inconvenience. He'd had his heart broken, a fact he wasn't aware that she knew about, and according to Stefan, didn't let anyone get too close. She'd seen flashes of the Damon everyone else seemed to know. He was the guy who so boldly suggested she join him in the coat closet at his father's funeral and who had been downright rude to his brother over breakfast. But she'd also seen flashes of another side of him. Somewhere in Damon was the man who shared cotton candy with her niece and held her in his arms during the thunderstorm. She liked that Damon, but she needed to reconcile him with his other half, the slick, fast-talking sports agent who boldly stated he always got what he wanted.

She had more questions than answers. She liked him and if he weren't leaving town, she would be sure about pursuing a relationship with him, seeing where things went between them. But his life was in New York. It would likely be best to cut ties now and save herself from the heartache that would come when he left Mystic Falls. She couldn't though. Because deep down, something nagged her, told her she needed to know Damon Salvatore. According to Bonnie whom she'd confided in earlier that day, that something was her very soul. And just as she couldn't prove Bonnie was right, she couldn't prove she was wrong, either.

The rumble of a car weaved its way through the trees and passed through the screens of the open windows letting in the comfortably warm late summer air. Elena glanced at herself in a hallway mirror one last time, ran a hand through her hair, and made her way outside, suddenly nervous. Damon was just pulling his Camaro to a stop next to her SUV. She stood at the top of the porch stairs, barefoot in a casual skirt and one of her favorite tops, and waited.

She had to remind herself to breathe when he stepped out of his car.

Her question of whether he owned an article of clothing in something besides black or navy was answered. His dark wash jeans hugged his hips, but it was the sky blue long sleeve shirt pushed up to his elbows that made Elena's breath hitch. The color made his vivid eyes pop all that much more, a stark contrast between his fair skin and raven-colored hair. He was aware of the affect he was having on her as he approached, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

"You look stunning," he said. He was equally as taken with her, with the whole scene playing out before him. She looked so comfortable standing there on her porch, as integral to the landscape of the lake as the lake itself. She had invited him into her world, offered him a chance to get closer to her. He was going to take it, his heart be damned.

"So do you," she replied, stepping down one stair. "I'm relieved to learn you have at least one other shade of blue in your wardrobe." He chuckled, not bothering to mention he'd bought the shirt earlier that day during a spur of the moment trip to Charlottesville in search of the perfect bottle of wine for their evening. He'd realized he had packed a number of dress shirts and white undershirts, but few things that were casual, comfortable. Those weren't typical adjectives that he would use to describe his wardrobe – or his life. He'd ducked into a shop to pick up a couple of things and the brighter color had seemed like the right choice. And, given Elena's reaction, it was.

"I'm breaking out of my color palette comfort zone," he told her seriously. He leaned down and kissed her briefly. "For you," he said, offering her the bottle of wine in his hand. She took it and studied the label. It was a fine red, made locally.

"This will go perfectly with dinner," she told him. "It's as if you knew I'm making Italian." Damon raised an eyebrow.

"You're making Italian for an Italian?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"That may not have been one of my better choices," she said, biting her lip as she realized he was right. She would essentially be trying to beat him at his own game.

"It's a good thing I can cook," he told her. "I may need to show you a thing or two."

"Well, then. Follow me. I've only just started water to boil for the noodles." She'd started dinner late on purpose, buying herself more time with Damon. She led him inside, pretended not to notice how he observed everything around him, particularly her. Elena put the wine in the fridge to chill and just as she turned to Damon to ask him if he wanted something to drink, she was met with him reaching for her.

"You're really bad at these proper hellos," he said before pulling her into a deep kiss. She sighed happily against his lips, wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him even closer. When they parted for a breath, Elena shook her head.

"You have to stop doing that," she said.

"Doing what?" Damon asked innocently.

"Taking my breath away," Elena replied before turning back to the fridge to remove a few ingredients she'd need for dinner, embarrassed that she'd let her thoughts become spoken word. She didn't see Damon's eyes widen in surprise before he settled into a smile. He took a few of the items in her hands from her as she turned back to him.

"What are we making?" he asked.

"Cannelloni," Elena answered.

"I make a mean béchamel sauce," Damon told her. She looked at him skeptically. "And you don't believe me."

"Forgive me, but judging by the number of restaurants you've mentioned since we met, I have a hard time believing you know your way around the kitchen."

"Just because I don't cook, doesn't mean I can't," Damon quipped. He pulled out a bar stool from under her kitchen island. "Sit down."

"Excuse me?"

"Sit down," Damon said again. "I'm in charge now."

"No," Elena said firmly. "I invited you out here so I could cook you dinner…"

"And then you assumed that I can't cook," Damon cut her off. "I took that as a challenge. And I don't back down from a challenge. It's a nasty habit of mine." Elena still wasn't appeased. "Fine," Damon relented. "You make the filling, I'll make the sauce."

"Deal," Elena said although she looked skeptical. She started pulling out pots and pans while Damon opened the containers she'd removed from the fridge. Elena poured them each a glass of white wine, leaving enough in the bottle to make up what was called for in their recipe. Or at least in her recipe. Watching Damon, he seemed to have his own ideas for how the sauce was supposed to turn out. She shook her head and started melting butter to brown the ground beef.

They easily settled into organized chaos, talking about their days and the need to finish _Fight Club _as they worked on their respective parts of the meal. While Elena meticulously measured out everything down to the last fourth of a teaspoon, Damon haphazardly added ingredients to the sauce forming in his pan, pouring in generous amounts of white wine, shaking in spices and stirring the mixture as it thickened. He seemed just as comfortable in the kitchen as he did behind the wheel of his Camaro while she was tenser. She'd learned to cook over the years, but still relied heavily on recipes and measuring cups to avoid disaster.

Slowly, the kitchen started to smell of Italian. Elena removed the pasta from where she'd dropped it into cold water after boiling to cool down and lined the tubes along a cookie tray to be stuffed. She gasped when Damon came up behind her and pulled her against him. He didn't say anything, just kissed her cheek, let her go, and went back to his sauce. She smiled to herself at the simple gesture that she somehow knew was very un-Damon-like.

"Taste this," Damon said a few minutes later, bringing a spoon of his sauce to Elena, blowing it gently to cool it down. Elena opened her mouth and Damon carefully fed her, smiling brilliantly when she groaned audibly.

"That's amazing," she informed him.

"I know," he said proudly. "Told you I knew what I was doing."

"I do stand corrected," Elena agreed. "Where did you learn to cook?" From what she knew about Damon, he'd spent most of his time hopping from city to city until somewhat settling in New York. Even settled, she had the impression he ate out often. She doubted he even had groceries.

"My mom's recipes," he answered, leaving it at that. He mixed Elena's meat filling, which he taste-tested and approved beforehand, in with his sauce while Elena pre-heated the oven and started removing items to chop for a salad. They worked together to stuff the cannelloni noodles, both hyper aware of the other's proximity. Elena took over lining the stuffed cannelloni into a baking dish and Damon finished it off by pouring the remainder of the sauce the noodles and sprinkling it with cheese.

"I'll let you put it in the oven, so you can feel like you made it all by yourself," Damon said, his eyes sparkling.

"You're hilarious," Elena retorted. She transferred the dish into the oven, set a timer and perched on the barstool across the kitchen island from where Damon was seated, nursing his glass of wine. She picked up a knife, pulled a cutting board towards her, and started chopping romaine for their salad.

"You really do live in the middle of nowhere," Damon commented. "But I will say, it's beautiful up here." He looked at her. "The view isn't so bad either." To his delight, she blushed deeply.

"It's really not that far out of Mystic Falls," she told him. "There's a little town about 15 minutes away that has a grocery store and a pizza place that will deliver to the lake. And there are some chain retailers and restaurants, a couple of gas station, a laundry mat. It's not like I'm living in the mountains with no connection to society. People vacation here. It's a destination."

"Still, you're out here by yourself. You have to understand why people worry."

"People worry?" she asked innocently. She knew her family and friends weren't crazy about her living "so far way," but they had understood her reason for choosing to live at the lake house. When Damon said "people," she was pretty sure she meant him and she wanted him to say it.

"Yeah, people," Damon said. "Your family, friends."

"And you," Elena stated, fixing him with a knowing look. He looked uncomfortable, but shrugged his shoulders.

"Think about it," Damon said. "Like you said, people vacation here. Strangers. They could be the nicest people in the entire world. Or they could be a serial killer, looking for their next victim. The pretty girl living all by her lonesome without a neighbor visible for miles? Perfect target."

"You've thought this through," Elena quipped.

"I've watched a lot of _Law & Order," _he shot back. Elena shook her head.

"I'm perfectly safe out here, Damon. And on the McIntire Greenway."

"Agree to disagree," Damon said, using a phrase he'd heard Elena use with him a couple times. He finished his wine and noticed Elena's glass was empty as well. "More wine? The bottle I bought is probably chilled by now."

"Please," Elena confirmed. "The corkscrew is by the sink."

She watched openly as Damon retrieved the wine bottle from the fridge. She bit her lip as she observed his biceps move as he worked the corkscrew and uncorked the bottle of wine. He poured two glasses a third of the way full each and returned to her.

"For the lady," he said, placing the glass in front of her.

"Thank you," she replied, smiling up at him. He winked at her and returned to his barstool across from her.

"Why did you choose to live out here?" he asked. "As beautiful as it is, it's a complete one-eighty from New York. Not that Mystic Falls isn't, but it at least has a decent coffee shop and a police department."

"The lake has a security team," she told him, earning an eye roll. "I loved my time in New York. But when I was ready to move back, I needed space. I stayed with Jenna and Ric for a few weeks, but there were always people around. Caroline and Bonnie would just drop by when they felt like it. Matt would show up wherever I was to hang out or ask me to dinner. Jeremy was constantly around.

"I knew I wanted to be in Mystic Falls, but I also knew I wanted my own life, privacy. I realized the lake house was the perfect solution. I'd be close to my family and friends, but I'd also have my own life, time to myself to write, read, sit around in my pajamas and stream a whole season of a TV show without interruption. And some of my best memories of my parents are here. It helps me feel closer to them."

Damon was silent for longer than she thought he'd be. He absentmindedly swirled the wine in his glass, taking his time to digest Elena's words.

"How did everyone else end up here?" he asked finally. "Your friends, I mean? I'm assuming they left? All of them seem to have decent careers, ones that would require an education or at least experience they couldn't get here. I know Stefan's story – he's wanted to be a doctor and go to UVA since he could talk – but what about everyone else?"

He was asking as much for himself as he was to learn more about Elena. His mind had been wrestling with thoughts and ideas he couldn't sort out and he needed to understand how – why – others had ended up back in their hometown when there was so much more to experience outside of Mystic Falls.

"Matt is the only one who stuck around after high school," Elena told him. "He mowed lawns in the summer, raked leaves in the fall and shoveled driveways in the spring all through high school to earn some extra money. That's how he ended up with his landscaping business." A thought hit Damon.

"Wait. Donovan. He's our landscaper. Donovan Landscapes." Elena nodded.

"He has a monopoly on Mystic Falls and the surrounding area. He turned those lawns and driveways into a full blown business, does really well for himself. Caroline took off to the west coast. She went to USC, got a degree in business. She hated it out there almost from the beginning. I think it was because people made fun of her small town upbringing, but she'll say it was the 'vibe' she didn't like. She moved back the day after her graduation.

"Tyler, he went to UVA with Stefan. He had offers to play football at some smaller schools, but at some point during our senior year, he decided he wanted to be a lawyer. He just passed the bar exam a few weeks ago, works for a firm in Charlottesville. He'll probably follow in his mother's footsteps and be the mayor someday.

"Bonnie, she beat to her own path. She didn't go to college. She traveled around Europe for a while, spent a summer with me in New York. Caroline came too. That was a great summer." She paused to smile as she thought back on memories that Damon was sure were less that innocent. "She eventually ended up taking a position as the art teacher at the high school. She's brilliant, just left of center enough that the kids think she's the coolest teacher in the world – just don't tell Ric, because he thinks he's their favorite. It's an ongoing debate." She waved her hand dismissively, making Damon chuckle.

"And then Jeremy came back after college. He teaches too, physical education at the middle school. He coaches their baseball team and helps with the high school's J.V. football team. We all got a taste of life outside of here, for the most part, got to experience something bigger than Mystic Falls. But at the end of the day, this is where we belong. Caroline and Tyler and Jeremy and Bonnie will raise their kids here, grow old here. Matt will too, whenever he finds the right girl. Stefan, who knows what will happen when he finishes his residency, but if he's offered an attending position at the hospital, I don't see him turning it down. I don't see him without Rebekah, either."

"And what about you?" Damon asked, his eyes on hers. She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I guess we'll see," she said.

She finished dicing a cucumber and added it to her bowl. She opened her mouth to turn the tables, intending to outright ask Damon if he ever saw himself returning to Mystic Falls. She was interrupted before she could speak by the sound of Damon's cell phone blaring out the same obnoxious rap song she remembered from the coffee shop. He quickly pulled it from his pocket and frowned as he read the display.

"That's weird," he mumbled as he stood and pressed his finger to the screen to answer the call. "Sorry, Elena, I need to take this." She nodded in understanding. "Salvatore," he said into the phone as he left the room. She listened to him walk through the house and out onto the front porch.

Minutes passed. She finished the salad and moved on to prep the breadsticks she'd purchased while in Charlottesville the day before, the idea of inviting to Damon to dinner just starting to take shape. More time passed and the timer sounded, signaling the cannelloni was finished. She removed it from the oven and placed the breadsticks in to warm. She was just pulling them out of the oven again when Damon reappeared almost a full half hour later.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice dripping with sincerity. Elena only had to look at him to know he had never intended to take so long. "That was one of my clients. He's been struggling with some stuff lately and apparently, he's checking himself into rehab."

"Oh," Elena said, surprised. "Is he okay? I mean, he's obviously not okay, but is he okay right now?"

"He's a good guy. Great athlete. But he has a habit of falling into things he shouldn't. Last year, it was alcohol. This year, it's drugs."

"It sounds like he's getting the help he needs," Elena said, not really sure what else to say in the situation. Damon nodded.

"To his credit, this is the first time he's taken it upon himself to seek treatment. Usually there's an ultimatum or a court order involved. I'm not sure how many more chances he's going to get." He shook his head. "Anyway, it looks like I have to fly back to New York tomorrow, deal with a few things." Elena nodded in understanding.

"If you need to go…," she started. Damon cut her off.

"Oh no," he said with a shake of his head. "Tonight, I'm all yours. My plane leaves late tomorrow morning and I'll be back late the day after. It'll be a quick trip, nothing to worry over." He had crossed the kitchen to her as he talked and placed his hands on either side of her waist. "Now, I didn't drive all the way out here or slave over that béchamel sauce for nothing." Elena smiled.

"Well, if you're not running off just yet, dinner is ready." She waved her hand at the stove. "You top off our wine glasses. It's beautiful out so I thought we could eat on the patio. Meet you out there?"

"Yes ma'am," Damon confirmed. He gave her a playful salute and in almost one motion, picked up both wine glasses and the wine bottle and departed the kitchen.

Elena let out a breath when she heard the front door shut behind him. He was going back to New York. Even though it was for a total of 36 hours, he was still going back. She'd known he would. What she hadn't know is that it would bother her this much.

* * *

><p>The pair ate dinner in relative peace, the sun set over the lake providing them with a near perfect background. Before she'd joined Damon on the patio with their dinner, she'd made a valiant effort to shove aside any feelings she had about him going back to New York – now or later – and focus on being in the here and now. She'd pulled it off, the task made easy simply by how easy it was to be with Damon who told her more about his client. She found herself feeling sympathy for the young man who had been through a number of ups and downs over his relatively short life. She also found herself attracted to the fact that Damon seemed to genuinely care about the guy and was willing to fight for him.<p>

When dinner was over, they cleared the patio table and Damon, at his assistance, handled the dishes, rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher which Elena had to start because despite his confidence in the kitchen, it seemed he wasn't as domestic as he thought. They returned to the patio, each with another glass of wine, but at the last second, Elena took his hand and led him down the path to the dock where two Adirondack chairs sat at the end.

"Now this is a view," Damon said appreciatively, settling into one of the chairs. He placed his glass of wine on the small table between the two chairs.

"When I was a teenager, I'd spread out a towel, grab a book and stay out here for hours," Elena told him. "When I moved out here, I did that a few times, then decided I needed something a little more grown up."

"Good choice," Damon said. He leaned his head back on his chair and breathed in. The mountain air was fresh, clean. He'd forgotten what it was like to breathe unpolluted air. It cleared his mind, brought about a sense of peace. He opened his eyes and looked over to Elena. "You're quite the view too." She blushed deeply, sure Damon had complimented her more in one evening than everyone else combined in the last year.

"You're good with words," she said. "Which explains why you're so good at your job." He winked at her and reached over to take her hand. Resting their clasped hands on the table between them, Damon idly rubbed his thumb back and forth across her skin. Thinking of what Stefan had told her and her own need to learn more about Damon, Elena decided it was as good of time as any, their bellies full and a couple of glasses of wine down each, to ask him a few questions. "Damon?"

"Hmm?" he replied, pulling himself out of his thoughts to look at Elena. She'd caught him doing that a few times over the course of the evening and wondered what it was all about.

"How are you doing?" she asked. He frowned.

"Right now?" he replied. He quickly turned his frown into a smirk and squeezed her hand. "Oh, I'm just fine, Elena." She gave him a smile but shook her head.

"Don't play that game with me," she said. "I invented that game. Your father just died. How are you doing with all of that?" Her words were tough, but her tone was gentle and the combination of the two was enough to break through Damon's layer of wit and sarcasm.

"I'm fine," he said. "My father and I didn't have a relationship. We haven't since I was a kid. His death was nothing more than an ending." Elena frowned at the way Damon so casually talked about his father's passing.

"Stefan is pretty tore up over it," she ventured. "He's doing well enough, going to work, focusing on Rebekah. But he was devastated." She hadn't realized until just then that Damon hadn't, at least to her knowledge, visited his father as he lay dying from cancer. She added that to the list of mysteries about Damon.

"I think it's pretty clear that I'm not Stefan," Damon said, his tone short. He didn't release Elena's hand, but he stopped moving his thumb, his grip loosening. "My little brother is flawless. Me? Not so much."

"Damon," Elena said in an appeasing tone. She squeezed his hand. "I know you're not Stefan. It's just… I've lost my parents, you know? I understand that it's hard. You can talk to me."

"There's no need," Damon said. "I'm fine, Elena. I lost my only parent when I was six years old. That's the death that still haunts me. Not my father's."

Elena didn't know what to say. There was so much bitterness in his voice, anger he'd clearly held on to for a long time. She let go of his hand and stood. "Elena…," he questioned, realizing he'd been harsh. He didn't talk about feelings and all that went along with them, but he was also bothered by Elena moving away from him. But instead of moving away, he found her settling into his lap.

"I'm sorry," she said as Damon's arms automatically encircled her. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," he assured her. "I get it, Elena. I'm supposed to be grieving or whatever. But Giuseppe Salvatore – he was a good dad. To one of his sons. You can figure out which one of us that was." Elena didn't say anything for a few moments as her fingers lightly trailed along his chest. She'd remembered something about Damon after Stefan had left her cabin, something she couldn't believe she'd forgotten until then, especially since it had happened just six months ago.

"Your dad thought I'd be good for you," she told him. Damon looked at her sharply.

"What?"

Elena took a deep breath, not sure how he would take what she was about to tell him. Of the things she did know about Damon, she knew he was unpredictable.

"About six months ago, when Giuseppe's cancer came back, I stopped by to see him. I brought Chinese food and we sat around eating from containers, talking about anything besides the fact that Giuseppe's doctors had just told him his cancer not only back, but was terminal. Stefan was there. Rebekah called and he left the room to talk to her.

"Giuseppe and I were talking about something completely unrelated when he suddenly changed the topic. He started talking about Stefan and Rebekah and how she was good for him. He liked her." She felt Damon tense slightly and remembered what Stefan had said about Giuseppe not liking Katherine. She dismissed the thought and continued her story.

"He told me he'd always like me and Stefan together…"

"Elena…," Damon groaned. She gave him a look as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Let me finish," she told him. He nodded, clearly uninterested. There was something about her and Stefan, she realized, that Damon hated. They had been nothing more for friends for nearly a decade, but it seemed the idea of them as anything other than acquaintances set Damon on edge.

"He told me that he'd liked Stefan and I together, but always thought we were too safe for one another," she continued. "Then he chuckled and said 'I wish you'd run into my son, Damon, while you were in New York.'" That got Damon's attention.

"He said what?" he asked sharply.

"He said he wished we'd ran into each other in New York," she repeated. "Apparently, he thought I could give you a run for your money – to quote him. He said you needed a good woman to settle you down. I laughed, shook my head and Stefan walked in. We went back to talking about whatever we were talking about. I'd forgotten all about it until just the other day."

Damon remained quiet after she finished her story. He'd idly started running his fingers up and down her bare arm, tracing a pattern only he knew. Elena let him be. She knew intuitively that he didn't need her to push him right then. He'd talk – whether about what she'd just told him or something else – when he was ready. So instead, she gazed over the lake and up at the sky which was filling with the first of the evening's stars as the sun sunk below the horizon.

"You think you would have liked me if we'd met in New York?" he finally asked. It wasn't that he'd asked her a question that made her tear her eyes away from the scene nature was unfolding before her to look at him. It was the tone of his voice, the undertone of self-doubt, that grabbed her attention.

"Would you have hit on me like you did at the repass?"

"Probably," Damon admitted. "Actually, I would have probably been worse. At the repass, there were witnesses, people who knew you, knew me. In New York, no one gives a damn about anyone else. I would have been a lot more brazen."

"And I would have probably told you to go to hell." That earned her a small grin from Damon.

"Like you did at the repass."

"I didn't tell you to go to hell at the repass," she reminded him. "I told you I wasn't interested."

"And yet, here you are," Damon said. He tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her towards him. "Sitting in my lap, kissing me."

"I'm not kissing you," she said in an almost whisper, even as he brought her still closer.

"You are now," he muttered, just before his lips landed on hers.

For the second time that night, things got heated, quickly. This time, Damon's hand crept further up her leg, sliding just under the hem of her skirt. She only pulled away when she had to, in desperate need of catching her breath. Damon moved around in the chair to readjust himself and then used his free hand to coax Elena's head to his shoulder, content just to hold her for a while. He left his hand under her skirt hem, however, idly brushing his fingertips back and forth across her skin.

"You're a hard one to figure out, Damon Salvatore," Elena said.

"Why do you say that?" He drew circles on her thigh with his fingertips, forcing Elena to do her best to ignore the sensation.

"You show up here, guns blazing, no regard for what you say or who you say it to. And then you turn around and tell me _Gone With The Wind _is your favorite novel and go all gourmet chef in the kitchen. It's like there are two Damon's in the same body."

"Don't be fooled by the literary knowledge and culinary skills," Damon replied. He nuzzled her cheek briefly. "The guy with guns blazing and no regard for others is a lot more like me."

"I don't believe that," Elena told him sincerely, boldly.

"Then you're setting yourself up for disappointment."

"Maybe," Elena agreed. She fell silent again, her gaze back over the lake. The sun had all but disappeared, leaving just a sliver of orange visible over the horizon.

Damon rested his cheek against Elena's head, the scent of her shampoo – lavender and vanilla – filling his senses. He tightened her hold on her so slightly he doubted she felt it, but he felt a physical need to have her closer. He hoped she couldn't feel his heart pounding in his chest.

He hated this. The metaphorical angel was on one shoulder, the devil on the other. The angel whispered words of hope, encouragement. It told him he could have something with Elena. He could trust her. He could possibly even fall in love with her, if he gave himself permission. He could have her in his arms like this whenever he wanted. He could let go of some of his worst habits and try to make Elena happy.

But the devil was there too, reminding him of the string of women he'd bedded in New York and the nights he'd spent drinking bourbon, waking up the next morning to not remember where he was or how he got there. It whispered about how his job took him all over the country, provided him with a lifestyle that would make most bachelors jealous. It whispered too about how he'd had his heart broken the one time he'd tried to love someone besides himself, reminded him that anyone he'd ever loved had let him down. Why even bother to fall for Elena, given his track record?

She shifted around slightly, trying to get comfortable again.

"You good?" he asked. It was growing chilly now that the sun had set and while he had long sleeves, she was wearing a sleeveless top and this time, he didn't have a jacket to drape around her shoulders.

"I'm good," she replied with a soft smile, tilting her head up to look at him briefly.

They remained like that for a while longer, Elena curled up in Damon's lap, her head on his shoulder, his arms around her. Neither of them were in a hurry to move. As it always seemed to, the scenery quieted Elena's busy mind, leaving her to just be. Damon, tired of once again struggling over what he was feeling for Elena, had changed his line of thinking, pondering what he needed to pack for his quick trip to New York and what he needed to accomplish while he was there. He tipped his head back, intending to rest his eyes, only to have them fall on something else.

"There are so many stars," he said. Elena looked up to the sky as well. It was an especially clear night and the black sky looked like someone had dumped a jar of silver glitter across it. She smiled.

"You don't see that in New York, do you?" she asked, remembering her early days in the city when she'd strained her eyes just for a glimpse of the moon. Damon shook his head, his eyes still on the stars.

"You don't," he confirmed. He tried to remember the last time he'd seen so many stars, but fell short. He couldn't explain why he was so mesmerized, but the scene hit somewhere down in his very soul. He drew in a deep breath and let it out before turning his attention to Elena. He removed an arm from her waist and rubbed his hand up and down her bare arm.

"We haven't had dessert," she told him. "You up for some peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream?"

"I could be convinced," Damon said. Elena slid from his lap, causing him to miss her warmth almost immediately, and then held out her hand. He took it and stood and together, they walked back to her house. They made small talk as Elena cut two pieces of cobbler and heated them to just warm in the microwave. With ice cream scooped on top, they sat at her kitchen island and ate, the conversation easy as ever.

It wasn't just the conversation that flowed. They had an easy way together, a comfortable routine they settled into when they were together. While cooking dinner, they had wordlessly passed utensils and spices back and forth, neither having to break their conversation to ask the other to pass the rosemary. They cleaned the kitchen in synchronicity and even while Elena cut and warmed the cobbler, Damon fetched two forks from a drawer before he sat down.

"This is incredible," Damon said between forkfuls. "It's almost as good as my sauce."

"Almost?" Elena asked. "Try better."

"Never."

"Those peaches are so fresh I practically picked them off the tree," Elena retorted.

"Practically?"

"Technically, I bought them from a roadside stand between here and Mystic Falls, but they were freshly picked at a local orchard. You don't get them that fresh in New York." Damon studied her.

"You're really throwing New York under the bus tonight," he said. "No stars, no fresh peaches… What do you have against the Big Apple all of a sudden?" Elena shook her head.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm just making observations. They happen to all be coming at once." Damon continued to study her.

"You're sad I'm leaving," he said, a slow grin forming. "You're going to miss me."

"I never said that," Elena said with a shake of her head. Damon's grin was full now.

"Don't worry, Princess. Two days from now, I'll be sitting right back here, with you. Or you'll be sitting across from me when I take you on another date, but the idea is the same."

"You're taking me on another date?" Elena asked with a small smile. Damon nodded.

"If I'm going to be in town, I may as well spend my time with the most beautiful woman the town has to offer."

'And there it is,' Elena thought. Her first sign that Damon saw her as a fling, a way to fill the time he was being forced to spend in his hometown. She arranged her features into a smile.

"And who would that be?" she asked.

"You." They traded a smile and Elena noticed the dollop of ice cream on Damon's lip.

"You have…," she reached across the island and ran her thumb across Damon's lip, wiping away the ice cream. He reached up and caught her wrist, his eyes locking with hers. Wordlessly, he stood and tugged her toward him gently, pulling her from her stool. She met him at the end of the island, their lips smashing together.

One hand buried in her hair to hold her to him, Damon kissed he with everything he could muster, a war of emotions raging on in his chest. Her hands slid along his abs, over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling him to her even as she pressed every inch of her body against his. He moved, taking her with him, pushing her up against the refrigerator. Tearing his lips away from her, he kissed along her throat, his hands starting to explore. Her sighs encouraged him, her own hands, still in his hair, holding him to her.

"Damon…," she breathed. He kissed her lips again and pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

"I want you," he told her, throwing out any notion he had of being a gentleman. She leaned up and kissed him, took his hand.

Wordlessly, she gave him a look and led him to her bedroom. They had barely passed through the doorway before he spun her around and pulled her back into a kiss. He wrapped an arm around her and lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around him. He laid her down on her bed, hovered over her as she deftly removed his shirt.

All of her good senses had gone out the window. A small voice tried to tell her to slow down, to put the brakes on before it was too late. But as Damon slipped her shirt over her head and immediately lowered his lips to her sternum, she shut that voice down and focused on the feeling of his skin against hers, his hands touching her. She closed her eyes as her name slipped from his lips.

* * *

><p><strong>Whew! That was a dinner date. I think its safe to say - given that I'm several chapters ahead in the writing process - that there is a fair amount of foreshadowing in the above.<br>**

**If I find the time, I may write a one-shot of where things left off, but given the rating on this story, I kept it PG. I'll see what I can do there. :) **

**Please let me know what you thought - and I love reading your speculations about where the story is going, even though I have the plot laid out from start to finish! **

**Thanks for reading!**


	11. Rose

**I'm so glad y'all loved the last update - lots of great moments in that one! There's some Elena and Damon in this one as well, but there's a Damon scene I really love to close this update out. I really liked the character of Rose and her no nonsense ways. I wanted Damon to have a friend in New York and so - enter Rose. I hope you like her too. **

**Thank you all for reading. I say it every time, but I mean it. Your reviews make my day and encourage me to keep writing. I don't use a beta so I know there are the occasional grammatical and/or spelling errors, but you keep reading and you keep reviewing and I so appreciate that. So thank you. **

**Also, I _finally _got around to updating my author profile. It's kind of cheesy and I mention my dog more than what's normal, but it's updated!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

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><p>"Rise and shine, Salvatore!"<p>

Damon groaned and rolled over, vaguely registering that there was something different about his surroundings. The bed was softer than his. The sheets weren't silk, but a high thread count cotton. They smelled different too. Like lavender and vanilla. Elena. His eyes popped up.

"Seriously, Damon, you still need to go back to Mystic Falls and pack. You need to get going if you're going to make your flight."

Damon rolled back over and blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight flooding through the open blinds. Elena stood before him, fully dressed in running clothes, her hands on her hips as she tried to raise him out of his deep sleep.

"You always so nice to your overnight guests?" he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Only the ones I like," she quipped. "Come on. If you move now, you might have time for coffee." Damon had no interest in coffee at the moment, however. Memories of the night before had come flooding back, causing him to smirk.

"I'll skip the coffee and have you instead," he said. He sat up then and grabbed her before she could move out of his reach, pulling down into the bed with him. She laughed as she crashed down on top of him.

"I'm all sweaty," she told him, his arms holding her in place.

"Oh, I remember," he purred, planting a kiss just behind her ear.

"Seriously, Damon, I just ran a 5K."

"After that marathon last night? My, what endurance you have." He kissed her again, this time on her jawbone. "What time is it anyway?"

"Just after seven." Damon frowned.

"Who in the hell gets up and runs a 5K before the sun is up after a night of great sex?"

"Me," Elena told him. She moved so she was lying beside him, her head sharing a pillow with his. "Your snoring woke me up and since I was up, I went running. I thought about waking you, but you looked so peaceful so I let you sleep."

"I don't snore," Damon stated.

"You do," Elena insisted. "But not in a loud, freight train sort of way. It's much more refined." Damon shook his head. Elena placed a hand on his cheek. "Good morning."

"Morning," he replied. Elena leaned in and kissed him then, a good and proper kiss that he felt down to his toes.

"How was that for a proper hello?" she asked when she pulled away.

"Much better. Although this," Damon kissed her again, making it a point to leave her breathless, "is how it's done."

"A For effort," Elena retorted with a sly smile. She pulled away and sat up. "But effort is all you have time for this morning. You flight leaves in four hours." Damon groaned, realizing she was right. With the nearly hour drive to Mystic Falls and the forty-five minute drive from Mystic Falls to Charlottesville, he was already cutting it close, given that he still needed to pack.

"Stupid flight," he grumbled, not ready to get out of bed – or leave Elena – yet. He was just working up the energy to sit up when his phone rang out from where he'd left his pants. Elena retrieved it for him, wordlessly passing it his way. He frowned when he saw Stefan's name on the display. "What?" he answered. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, where am I?" Damon said into the speaker of the phone. Elena stood by the bed, her arms crossed as she listened in. "So you're checking up on me now? I'm a big boy, Stefan. It's okay if I don't come home sometimes." There was another pause as Stefan replied on the other end.

"Good God, Stefan," he replied. "Chill out. I'm at Elena's." Another pause. "Yes, Elena's." Elena bit her lip, listening. "No can do. I've got to go back to New York. But before you get excited, I'll be back tomorrow night."

Elena moved, picking up Damon's shirt from the floor and tossing it in his direction, her body brimming with tension as she thought back to the night before. She had no regrets, even though she felt like she should. She was glad she had given into temptation, taken a chance and let herself just feel instead of talking herself out of something she wanted, just because it wasn't the proper thing. She knew she was nowhere near his first and the way he'd made her feel over and over again proved it. It was, easily, the best sex she'd ever had.

"I'll think about it," Damon told Stefan. He hung up then, not giving a goodbye.

"Why are you so mean to your brother?" Elena asked, tossing his jeans on the bed.

"He's my little brother. You have a little brother. Surely you understand how annoying they are."

"I like my little brother," Elena said with a pointed look. She started towards the door. "You get dressed. I'll pour you a cup of coffee." She was through the door when Damon spoke.

"Did you sleep with him?"

Elena reappeared in the bedroom doorway, not sure she'd heard him correctly.

"What?"

"Stefan. Did you sleep with him?" Elena looked at him with disbelief.

"Stefan and I have been nothing more than friends for _eight _years," she told him, emphasizing "eight." Damon studied her in his own right.

"You did," he said, knowing he was right. Elena sighed from annoyance and folded her arms over her chest. He'd slept with half of New York from what she knew and judging by how he'd spent high school, he'd likely managed to sleep with a good portion of Mystic Falls as a teenager. He had no right to inquire about her sex life, particularly when it involved his younger brother.

"We dated for nearly two years," she told Damon, deciding to be honest. "We were each other's firsts. _Eight _years ago." She once again stressed "eight." Damon smirked.

"He was your first?" he asked. "Oh, I'm definitely better in bed. Doubt Steffie had a clue as to what he was doing." Elena blew out a breath, not daring to let on that she agreed with his statement. She was done with their particular conversation.

"You need to get going if you're going to make your flight," she informed him. She turned on her heels and walked away.

Her abrupt departure made Damon realize he'd gone too far. He groaned and fell back on the pillows, thinking of how things would be a lot easier if he just didn't give a damn. This was case in point as to why he didn't do relationships. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, got dressed and went to find Elena. She was in the kitchen, just finishing off adding cream and sugar to her coffee. Damon noticed the to go mug, the lid off and steam rising. He chose to view it as a positive that she'd still made him coffee.

"I was out of line," he said, stopping a few feet from her.

"You were," Elena confirmed. "Why does it matter so much to you?" Damon shrugged. He knew the answer. It was complicated and probably out of line as well. He didn't have time nor the will to fully explain it to Elena right then so he gave her the best answer he could.

"Sibling rivalry," he told her. It was the truth, vastly simplified.

"Stefan and I were together eight years ago," Elena said. "We were in high school. We were completely different people back then. We've both grown up, changed. There is no rivalry, sibling or otherwise." Damon only nodded, feeling sheepish.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. He approached her and reached for her, giving her the option on whether she wanted to come to him. He breathed a sigh of relief when she did, his arms enveloping her small frame. He found himself thinking of how he was going to miss this while he was in New York.

"I forgive you," she told him. "Just… Don't be so mean to Stefan." Damon pulled back so he could see her, but kept his arms around her.

"I'm not mean to Stefan," he protested.

"You are," Elena insisted. "He's your brother, Damon. And he's the only family you have."

"No he's not," Damon said. "There's Uncle Zach, nephew Joseph, Aunt…" he trailed off, unable to remember his uncle's wife's name even though he'd spoken to her in the days after his father's death on more than one occasion. Elena gave him a look that said he'd just proved her point.

"He likes having you here," she told him, running her hands down his chest. "I know he works a lot, but you should try to spend some time with him while you're in town." Damon looked guilty, but didn't say anything. Instead, he blew out a breath.

"Would it be wrong of me to assume that's my coffee?" he asked.

"It is yours," Elena confirmed. "I left out the sugar and creamer so you can fix it however you take it." Damon's response was to kiss her forehead before letting her go.

"I'll be back tomorrow night," he said as he poured in creamer. "Can I see you Sunday?" If he had it his way, he'd see her as soon as his plane landed. But the wheels wouldn't touch down until just after eleven and the rational side of him knew to wait until the following day. Morning, if he could swing it.

"You can," Elena confirmed. Damon smiled at her as he put the top on his mug.

"Good." He glanced at his phone which was beeping about a low battery and realized he really did need to get going. "Walk me to my car?" Elena nodded and led the way outside to where Damon had left his Camaro. Damon opened the door, deposited his coffee and phone, and then gave Elena his full attention. "Come here," he said, reaching for her.

"Be safe," Elena told him as she hugged him. He smiled into her hair.

"That's supposed to be my line," he told her, causing her to chuckle against his chest. He kissed the side of her head. "Thank you for last night. All of it." Elena pulled back and looked at him.

"Thank you," she replied simply. She pushed down the questions that threatened to bubble, ranging from asking if he'd call her when he landed to trying to define what the night before had meant. They moved towards each other, each making it a point to give the other a kiss they wouldn't forget anytime soon.

With one final chaste kiss to Elena's lips, Damon slid behind the wheel of his car, watching Elena walk back to the house even as he turned his car around to leave. She stood on the porch and gave him a little wave as he slowly accelerated down the driveway. As he drove through the twisting roads of the lake headed towards the main road that would lead him back to Mystic Falls, he tried to find the excitement he'd expected would come when it was time to return to New York.

Instead, he felt like he was forgetting something at Elena's.

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><p>Elena bit her lip as she read and re-read the paragraphs she'd just written, trying to decide which turn of phrase she wanted to use in the dialogue to describe the excitement her main character was feeling. She deleted a few words, typed in new ones, and returned to analyzing what she'd written.<p>

"Turn that frown upside down, sunshine," came a familiar British accent. "You'll get wrinkles." Elena looked up and smiled at Rebekah. "Mind if I join you for a few?"

"Of course not," Elena said, using her foot to push out the chair across from her. "I haven't really seen you in a couple of weeks."

"I've been working ridiculous hours," Rebekah said. "We had a big fundraising event last night that needed to go well and raise a lot of money. I'm happy to report that both missions are accomplished and I can officially enjoy my weekend. Sans boyfriend as he just left for the hospital for another 48 hour shift."

"Cheers to the weekend," Elena said, picking up her latte and clinking it against the cup Rebekah held in her hand. "Not to the Stefan working part, but to the rest of it." Rebekah laughed lightly and took a swig of her macchiato.

"Do you have plans tonight?" she asked Elena.

"I'm babysitting," Elena replied. "It's Ric and Jenna's anniversary. He's whisking her off to some bed and breakfast a few hours away. His sister was supposed to watch Ella, but something came up so I'm taking over. But if you want to watch Disney movies and play dress up, you know where I'll be."

"How about I bring a pizza?" Rebekah replied. "We can watch _The Little Mermaid _until the wee one goes to bed and then drink wine and talk about boys afterward."

"I wouldn't hate that," Elena said. The pair traded a smile. Elena's tightknit group of friends had welcomed Rebekah with open arms when Stefan had brought her with him to one of their standing monthly dinners at The Grill, but she had bonded with Elena almost right away and considered her one of her closest friends. Rebekah knew she wasn't a Bonnie or a Caroline for Elena, but they still had a close relationship that Rebekah was grateful for.

"So, Damon spent the night?" Rebekah asked curiously. She took the pastry she'd purchased at the counter from its bag.

"Stefan has a big mouth," Elena mumbled.

"Oh, it was all very dramatic this morning," Rebekah said with a hint of sarcasm, a playful barely there smirk on her lips. "We were going downstairs to make breakfast and when we passed Damon's room, the door was open and his bed clearly hadn't been slept in. Stefan immediately started acting like a concerned parent whose child missed curfew. I told him Damon was likely with you, but Stefan had to see for himself. Hence the phone call."

"Damon wasn't thrilled when Stefan called," Elena told her. "Did Stefan ask him to lunch by chance?"

"He did," Rebekah confirmed. "But obviously with Damon going to New York and Stefan back at the hospital for hours on end, that didn't work out."

"I encouraged Damon to spend some time with him," Elena said, aware that Rebekah knew about Stefan's visit to the lake to discuss his older brother. "I wouldn't hold my breath, but I did my part." Rebekah shook her head.

"It's the guy version of _Margot at the Wedding _with those two," she said. "But we can talk about the dysfunctional Salvatore brothers later. Is it safe to assume you and Damon were intimate last night?" Elena had to smile at Rebekah's proper way of asking if they'd slept together. Although she'd moved to America when she was young, her British upbringing was still strong, right down to her accent and vocabulary.

"No comment," Elena said, but her grin gave her away.

"Elena!" Rebekah exclaimed scandalously. "Both Salvatore brothers! Good job!" Elena gaped at Rebekah's boldness, the proper British girl from just moments ago already a distant memory. Rebekah was well-versed in Elena and Stefan's high school relationship and to her credit, had never seemed threatened by their friendship which was more than she could say for Damon.

"I don't know how to respond to that," she said. "I mean, yeah, but…"

"But Stefan was a virgin and didn't know what he's doing while Damon is as far away from a virgin as a Kardashian," Rebekah said with a wave of her hand. "Hardly a fair comparison. Although I'd like to think Stefan has learned a few tricks in the years since you two dated." Her eyes sparkled while Elena's face grew hot. "But let's add that to the list of things to talk about after a round of Disney princesses, shall we? On another yet related topic, how are things going between you and Damon?"

"There's not really a 'me and Damon,'" Elena told her, picking at the muffin she'd been nibbling at since sitting down to work an hour earlier. "I guess we're just having fun while he's here." Rebekah studied her.

"But you want there to be a you and Damon," she said knowingly. Elena sighed, knowing Rebekah was someone who always seemed to be able to see through her.

"Maybe," she admitted. "I don't know. He's an enigma. One minute he's sweet and kind, the next he's telling me how he's not a good guy and I'll just be disappointed."

"I think Damon has a lot of demons," Rebekah said slowly. "Stefan says he's allowed you to get closer to him than, well, anyone in a really long time."

"He definitely has his demons," Elena agreed. Rebekah sat back in her chair, crossing her legs and fixing her blue eyes on Elena.

"Well, I happen to think you're just the girl to exorcise them," she informed Elena. "And I'll be happy to say 'I told you so' at your wedding."

"The only person getting married anytime soon is Caroline," Elena said pointedly. "And most likely, you and Stefan." Rebekah smirked.

"Stefan and I will marry eventually," she said with confidence. "But when you and Damon get married, I fully expect to be a bridesmaid."

* * *

><p>Damon sat at the bar of one of his favorite drinking establishments in Manhattan, nursing a glass of aged scotch. He was a regular, known by the bartenders, even had a favorite stool. Tonight though, as he sipped from his tulip-shaped tumbler, he felt strangely out of place. The vibe of the place was low key, the reason he usually chose it when he needed to wind down after a tough day, but tonight, it wasn't taking the edge off.<p>

The day had definitely qualified as tough. He'd hit the ground running as soon as his plane landed, stopping at his high rise just long enough to change from his jeans and t-shirt to a sleek suits before he'd showed up at his client's apartment, banging on the door and demanding entry. He'd spent the next few hours convincing him to follow through with his decision to go to rehab and then, once seeing him to the treatment center, had dealt with press inquiries and coaching staff. He'd desperately needed a drink when he was finally done for the day and had been greeted warmly by the familiar bar staff. Now though, he was contemplating calling it a night and heading back to his apartment with the hopes that a long, hot shower and a few hours of sleep would help.

He tugged at his collar. He'd long ago undone his tie and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons, but he couldn't get comfortable. He'd shed his suit jacket, thinking that would help, but it hadn't. The only thing that kept him from untucking his shirt was the fact that he still needed to look somewhat presentable in case any of his contacts showed up.

Blowing out a breath, he picked his phone up from the bar and unlocked it, scanned it for any new texts, calls or emails. There was a slew of unread emails that he'd have to get to at some point and a couple of calls he planned to return in the morning, but the only new texts were work-related. He hadn't heard from Elena, even though he'd texted her a couple times, once when he landed and again a few hours ago, and he found he didn't like it.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, handsome." Damon turned at the familiar voice.

"No more so than you," he retorted. Rose winked and slipped onto the barstool beside him.

"Heard about your boy Enzo," she said. "Shame. Yet another trip to rehab? That'll take him out of the endorsement deal ring for sure."

"I see the good news has reached your jackass of a boyfriend," Damon commented. He took a long swill from his glass.

"It suffices to say that your misfortune made Trevor's day."

"Sad, really, that he's looking to capitalize on man's shortcomings in the name of a joint pain gel."

Damon took another swig of scotch. He actually liked Trevor Cummings, an agent for one of the biggest agencies in the sports industry. But Trevor was also his rival, consistently competing with Damon for endorsement deals and television appearances for their respective clients, both rubbing it in when they triumphed. With his wide receiver in rehab, Trevor's linebacker was practically a shoo-in to land a deal with a topical gel both of them had been chasing for their respective client for weeks.

"Because you didn't have a field day when one of Trevor's client got arrested for a DUI a few months ago," Rose countered. Damon smirked.

"I made a lot of money that week," he said. Rose rolled her eyes and ordered a martini before turning back to him.

"I didn't realize you were back in the city," she said. "I figured there would be pomp and circumstance when you returned. You always have liked the show."

"I'm not back," Damon told her. "I'm still wrapping up some things in Virginia. I just had to fly up here this morning to deal with Enzo. I'm flying back tomorrow night."

"So how is hicktown?" Rose asked. "I believe that's what you called it?"

"Mystic Falls," Damon corrected. "It's… Mystic Falls." He picked up his phone again and sat it back down in annoyance when there were no new texts.

"That's descriptive," Rose quipped. She uttered a thank you to the bartender when he placed her drink in front of her.

"The sole bar in town has good liquor," Damon answered. "And despite my father's many shortcomings, he did keep an excellent liquor cabinet of his own."

"Drinking your way through your hometown. Sounds about right." Damon smirked. Rose glanced around him, then made a show of acting as though she were looking for something. "What's wrong with you?" he asked.

"Where is she?" Rose asked him, still peering over his shoulder.

"She?" Damon questioned. Rose met his eyes with a knowing look.

"You always have a 'she,'" she told him. "Usually tall, blonde and not very bright. Yet you seem to be alone. Although if you'd like to change that, there's a table of cougars over in the corner by the fireplace." She really took in his appearance then. "And you're practically undressed. Damon Salvatore never lets people see him in anything other than a well-buttoned up suit. Who are you?"

"Long day," Damon answered, glancing at his phone once more.

Rose continued to study him. He tried to ignore her, checked his emails while asking for a refill, but she wasn't one to make it easy. She was the closest thing he had to a friend in New York. He'd hit on her during his early days in New York, then made the mistake of assuming she was a lesbian when she turned him down. She'd practically manhandled him into apologizing and once he had, she'd appointed herself his friend. Unable to shake her gaze, he finally turned to her.

"What?

"There's something different," she said. "I can't put my finger on it. The unbuttoned collar, tossed aside jacket, no she of the night… But those things aren't it. There's something different about you. What is it?"

"I haven't shaved and I could use a haircut," Damon retorted in a bored tone.

"No, that's not it," Rose said with a shake of her head. She was pondering what else could possibly be off kilter with her friend when his phone chimed. He snagged it, but not before she caught a glimpse of the photo on the screen. She watched as he grinned, pieces starting to come together.

Damon had never been happier to hear his text alert. Elena had finally replied, sending him a photo of her and Ella, both wearing boas and tiaras, Ella in a princess dress up gown and holding a wand, with the caption "_Sorry, this was happening." _Before he could respond, another photo appeared, this time of her and Rebekah, sitting together on a couch, laughing with glasses of wine in their hands as they snapped a selfie. She'd captioned it _"Now this is happening." _In response, he took a photo of his scotch and sent it to her, saying _"Drinking alone." _He figured she didn't need to know Rose was with him. When he put his phone down and turned back to Rose, she was absolutely beaming.

"What now?" he asked in annoyance, wishing he'd acted on his earlier thought to call it a night.

"There's a girl!" she said with far too much excitement for his liking. "You went to your hometown and found yourself a girl!"

"There's not… She's not…" Damon found he didn't have words to explain what Elena was to him. She most certainly wasn't his girlfriend, but she had somehow managed to pass through all his usual defenses to become more than his friend.

"Oh, you really like this one," Rose said, her eyes sparkling. "What's her name? Can I see her picture?" She made to grab for Damon's phone, but he held it out of her distance.

"Elena," he said. "Her name is Elena."

"Photo?" Damon just looked at Rose. "Oh, come on. I saw the picture on your screen. Just let me see." Knowing she wasn't going to give in and too tired from a late night with Elena, a flight and a hard day to fight, he opened the photo and passed Rose the phone.

"She's beautiful," Rose said honestly, studying the photo. "She has kind eyes."

"She's a good person," Damon said, repeating the words Stefan had used a couple of times to describe Elena. "Way too good for me." Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that he was tired or just that it was Rose sitting next to him, but he let his guard down, not entirely, but enough for her to see over. "It's probably a good thing I live here and she lives there. It'll only be a matter of time before I ruin it."

"Don't think like that," Rose said, putting a hand on Damon's shoulder. "You're your own worst enemy, Damon. If you like her, make a go of it. It's that easy. The only thing holding you back is yourself."

"She deserves more than me," he replied, shrugging her hand off. "She deserves a man who can give her a family, a white picket fence. I can't do that."

"Why not?" Rose challenged. Damon just looked at her as though to say she already knew. She sighed. "Damon, you're a good man. I don't know why you won't let yourself believe that."

"I'm not…"

"You are!" Rose cut him off hotly. "Damon, you got on a plane and flew up here to make sure Enzo went to rehab and clean up the mess he left in his wake. And it's nowhere near the first time you've bent over backwards for a client. What about Harper? He was an inner city kid with a dead beat mother, no father and likely no future after he got passed over in the NFL draft. Then you swooped in, offered your services at no charge until he signed a contract with a team, and what happened last year? He signed with the Redskins and was named Rookie of the Year."

"That's my job," Damon reminded her. Rose shook her head.

"Your job is to secure multi-million dollar contracts. It's not to escort them to rehab and give them a place to sleep because they can't make rent." Damon swirled the scotch in his glass as his phone chimed with another text from Elena. _"That's sad," _she'd wrote. He fired back "_You have no idea" _and turned back to Rose.

"Every person I have ever let get close to me has disappointed me," he said. "My parents, my brother, Katherine… If I don't do something to screw it up first, it's only a matter of time before Elena lets me down too, most likely because she'll realize I'm no good for her. I can't get hurt like that again, Rose."

Rose felt her heart crack for Damon. She and Trevor had found him belly up to a bar the night he'd walked in on Katherine in bed with someone else. He'd been so drunk they'd taken him to the hospital for fear of alcohol poisoning. She had never liked Katherine, had never understood what Damon saw in her, but she had also never seen someone take a breakup so hard. She'd always suspected his reaction had more to do with his past and less to do with the actual loss of Katherine, but she'd never been able to confirm it. He had pushed away any thought of getting so much as a dog ever since, completely terrified of commitment.

"Damon, everyone deserves to be happy. And if this Elena girl makes you happy…"

"I am happy," Damon interjected. "I live in the greatest city in the world, have more money than I know what do with, a great apartment. And have you seen my Benz? I'm as happy as a damn clam."

"Everything you just rattled off was entirely material," Rose pointed out. "Material things are nice, but they don't make you happy, Damon. We both know you aren't as happy living this swinging bachelor life as you like people to think you are." Damon didn't reply. He just took another drink from his glass.

"Even if I did want to pursue something with Elena, I couldn't," he finally said. "My life is here. Hers is in Mystic Falls. Long distance doesn't work."

"It does if you want it to," Rose said gently. "Trevor and I did it for a while, remember? When he was in Los Angeles and I was here?"

"The real bitch of it?" Damon asked. "She lived here until last year. She went to Columbia, stuck around. She's a bestselling author for Christ-sake. We went to the same restaurants, attended some of the same events. If I'd have met her sooner…" he trailed off, realizing he was going down a dangerous path. If he had met Elena when she lived in New York, he was pretty sure his life would have turned out different. But he hadn't, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

"We meet the people we're supposed to meet at exactly the time we're supposed to meet them," Rose said. "I haven't seen you like this over a woman, ever. Give her a chance, Damon. Give yourself a chance. Everything else – the logistics, past hurts – that will all work itself out, if you're just willing to give it a chance." She downed the last of her martini.

"You're a pain in the ass," Damon mumbled.

"Best look in a mirror when you say that," Rose replied, slipping from her bar stool. "I'm heading out. When can we expect you to grace New York with your presence again?"

"I don't know," Damon admitted. "The reading of my father's will is on Wednesday. Best guess, I'll be back next weekend." He felt a small pit of dread form in the deepest part of his stomach.

"I'll see you when I see you then," Rose said. She punched him in the arm as she passed. "And remember what I said – give Elena a chance." And then she was gone, slipping through the thickening crowd and out the door. Damon sighed and signaled for another drink, deciding this would be his last one.

He had to give it to Rose. One of the reasons he kept her around was that she shot straight. She'd called him out on his bullshit from the night they'd met, had seen him at his worst and helped him pick up the pieces without expecting anything in return. She'd called him out on his fears, encouraged him to push through and give himself a shot at happiness. He took a deep breath, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what he was going to do.

A reply from Elena lit up his phone, breaking through his jumbled thoughts. He picked it up and studied it for a moment, reading the words _I'll drink a glass with you the next time I see you to make up for it. _He started typing a cheeky response, but stopped.

"Screw this," he muttered, placing his phone back on the bar. He took out his wallet, tossed enough cash on the counter to cover his tab and a tip, grabbed his jacket and his phone and headed for the door. Once he was outside, he unlocked his phone, found Elena's number in his contacts and tapped it to call. She answered after only two rings.

"Hello, beautiful," he drawled, a smile forming as he meandered down the busy New York City sidewalk. "Miss me?"

* * *

><p><strong>So there's a little bit of Damon's New York life. You'll see more of it in later updates. As I'm writing ahead, I've realized this could technically be a trilogy, but I think I'm going to go ahead and post it all as one big story - an epic Damon and Elena tale, if you will. :) <strong>

**I also like the character of Rebekah, at least most of the time. She'll never be the focal point of the story, but I'm planning for her to have quite a speech in later updates. So there's that tease. **

**Thank you for reading - let me know what you think!**


	12. Quarry

**A little bit of a shorter update this time, but I assure you its because the next one will be a big one. At least as far as the storyline goes. ;) **

**As I was reading your reviews - THANK YOU for them! - there were a couple asking for Stefan and Damon bonding. I had to giggle to myself because I'd already finished off this update. I think those of you who like the brotherly bonding will be happy. **

**But really, thank you a thousand times over for reading and reviewing. I'm sure I speak for anyone who writes anything in a public forum when I say it goes a long way with the encouragement to continue to do write and post. I'm really proud of this story so far and I'm glad you all are receiving it well. So yes, thank you again! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?"<p>

"You've asked that at least a dozen times since we left Mystic Falls," Damon replied, glancing over at Elena in his passenger seat. It was a beautiful day, mid-70s with no humidity and a light breeze. He'd put the top down on his Camaro before they left and he found that he rather enjoyed how Elena looked with windblown hair.

"I wouldn't have to keep asking if you'd just answer the question."

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I answered the question."

"Are you kidnapping me?" Elena asked. She was half serious, even with a smile on her face.

"I could if I wanted to," Damon said. He glanced at her again. "But it appears you're with me of your own free will, so that takes the criminal element out of it." Elena rolled her eyes as her smile grew bigger. Damon grinned and squeezed her hand which he'd held in his since he'd slid behind the wheel, letting go only long enough to shift gears when he needed to. He kept his eyes on the road before him which was winding through the mountains, climbing higher and higher with each mile.

He'd arrived at Jenna and Ric's just after the sun, eager to whisk her away for the day to some undisclosed location. He hadn't given her an arrival time, just told her when she'd talked to him just before his flight the night before that he'd pick her up the next day. She hadn't been expecting him so early when she'd met him at the door in sleep shorts and a tank top, her hair piled on top of her head. He'd merely grinned, wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt, and kissed her after making a witty comment about her pajamas.

Ric and Jenna weren't due back from their weekend getaway until late that evening and while Elena had arranged for Jeremy and Bonnie to take over Ella duty, she had a couple of hours to kill before they were set to relieve her. Damon had taken the delay in stride, helping Elena with a simple breakfast and then occupying Ella while she went upstairs to get ready for the day. She'd returned downstairs an hour later to find Damon sitting on the couch, Ella tucked into his side, sucking on her thumb, and hugging her favorite baby doll under one arm, her head resting on Damon's chest as they watched a cartoon. Without Damon seeing her, she'd snapped a photo before making herself known.

Once Jeremy and Bonnie had arrived, Damon had given her just enough time to rattle off instructions and tell Ella goodbye before steering her out the door and into his car. They had been driving for the last hour, Damon intent on not letting Elena in on where they were headed, Elena anxious to know what Damon was up to. He flipped on his turn signal and slowed down, turning onto a gravel road that most people probably drove past without ever realizing it was there.

"My kidnapping theory is starting to look way more likely," Elena commented, noting the desolate gravel road flanked by woods.

"Just sit tight," Damon replied. A couple minutes later, the road opened into a big clearing. Damon pulled to a stop and shut off the engine. "Come on."

Taking Damon's lead, Elena opened her door and climbed out of the Camaro, taking in her surroundings while Damon retrieved a bag from the trunk. They were surrounded by tall pine trees and in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by soapstone, was a body of water. Elena recognized the place even though she had never been there.

"Steven's Quarry, right?" she asked, falling into step with Damon as they walked closer to the edge of the water.

"Yep," Damon confirmed. He jumped up onto a set of rocks overlooking the quarry, set his bag down, and offered his hand to Elena. She took it and carefully navigated the slick stone to stand with him. To their left, a waterfall spilled into the quarry. Damon lowered himself to sit on the stone and Elena did the same.

"I've never been out here," she told him, her eyes still taking in the scene. "It's beautiful."

"I was hoping you'd see it that way," Damon said. "I figured my odds were good, given that you live in the middle of pine trees, but you never know. The whole kidnapping commentary had me worried." Elena smiled at his wit.

"I'd actually forgot about this place," she said. "I think there were parties out here when I was in high school, but I never went."

"I spent most of my teenage years here," Damon told her. "Usually during school hours, but those parties were pretty great too. It's a wonder no one died out here, given the amount of alcohol we consumed and all these rocks. They filled the quarry with water years and years ago, but this thing goes down a few hundred feet. If you fell in you probably wouldn't get back out without some help and I promise there weren't many people around capable of helping at most of those parties.

"So what, you not only skipped school, you skipped town too?" Elena asked. She was intrigued by the little nugget Damon had revealed about his past, no matter how small it was. He kept most of his cards close to his chest and the more time she spent with him, the more curious she became.

"Truancy officers were a bitch," Damon answered. "And there was always the chance I'd cross paths with my dad while I was supposed to be in English class. So I'd come out here, hang out until I felt like going home."

"By yourself?" Damon nodded.

"Ric came with me a few times, but I liked flying solo."

"And you'd just sit out here and do what?" Elena pressed.

"Think. Drink. Play my music too loud. Smoke too many cigarettes. Sometimes I'd keep it tame, pull out a book and lounge right here," he smacked the rocks they were sitting on. He reached over and took Elena's chin in his hand, ran his thumb over her lips. "You're the only girl I've ever brought out here." She smiled, noting that Damon seemed in wonder of that fact as he spoke.

"What makes me so special?" she asked as Damon's hand slipped along her jawline and into her hair, his eyes on hers.

"You're different," he told her, moving slowly towards her.

"How so?" Her words were nearly a whisper.

"I'm still working that out," Damon told her, just before his lips met hers. While Elena was ready to rip his clothes off and have her way with him, he maintained control, pushing down his desire with a promise of fulfilling it later in the day and with some effort, pulled away, not wanting to rush when they had the whole day ahead of them. He reached for his bag and unzipped it, revealing an eclectic mix of snacks.

"You packed lunch?" Elena asked with a grin, taking in the fruit, granola bars and a box of cheese crackers he had shoved into his pack.

"I intended to have a better spread," Damon admitted. "But the stream of dead daddy casseroles has dried up and there wasn't anything in the fridge with an expiration date that wasn't expired. And apparently, the one grocery store in town doesn't open until mid-morning. I improvised."

"Do you even know how to grocery shop?" Elena asked. She took out the box of crackers and opened them. Grocery shopping seemed like such a mundane task, something far below Damon, even though he had proven he knew his way around a kitchen and didn't entirely lack domestic skills.

"You go in a store, pick cart and fill it with food. It's not hard."

"Fine. You know how to grocery shop. But do you _actually _grocery shop?"

"No," Damon admitted with a sheepish half grin. He reached for the crackers. "My fridge in New York has a couple of beers, a bottle of hot sauce and a jar of mayonnaise that probably has a layer of mold growing on it. I left a carton of Chinese in there before I flew down here for the funeral, so that smelled great when I opened the door yesterday."

"No groceries and yet you're practically a gourmet chef," Elena teased.

"I'm a man of many talents," Damon replied, smirking. He leaned back on his elbows, watching Elena as she continued to take in the scenery, idly munching on crackers. She was stunning, her long hair with the slightest of waves from her hurried attempted at straightening it while he waited downstairs blowing gently around her. She looked comfortable, relaxed. And he couldn't get enough of her. "I missed you, you know." She turned to him.

"You missed me?" she asked, a hint of disbelief coloring her tone. Damon nodded.

"I did," he admitted, as much to her as to himself. "I realized it while sitting at the bar downing scotch and checking my phone for text messages. It was actually a pretty pathetic moment in my life." Elena laughed and sat the box of crackers aside.

"I may have missed you too," she said, moving so she was also resting on her elbows.

"In between all that wine you consumed with Rebekah?" he asked playfully. Elena ran a hand down his chest.

"Of course. You left me with fond memories of Thursday night," she told him. "It made me eager for a repeat performance." Damon decided later was now.

"A repeat performance?" he asked as he moved so he was hovering over her. "I think we can manage that." She smiled and pulled him down to her, not a thought in her mind in that moment other than how much she wanted the man above her.

* * *

><p>Damon studied the handwritten lines of the leather bound book open in front of him, slowly running his finger down the page, pausing every once in a while to re-read a line or make out a word that had been smudged by years gone by. He flipped the page and continued reading, engrossed in the documents before him. With his email caught up and no more conference calls scheduled for the day, he'd taken to pouring over old mill records to fill his time. He vaguely registered the front door opening and closing and heard Stefan's footsteps making their way to the kitchen where Damon had set up shop.<p>

"Hey," Damon greeted, barely glancing up from the books.

"Hey," Stefan replied, surprised when Damon spoke first. He stopped on his way to the fridge when he realized what Damon was doing. "Dad's old records from the mill?" he asked, picking up a book and opening it to a random page. The date was May 26, 1958 and there had been a large delivery of cedar that day.

"Yeah," Damon confirmed as he turned the page again. "You been out there lately?"

"No," Stefan admitted, flipping the page in the book he'd picked up. "It's probably been two years since I did anything other than stop at the office to talk to Dad."

"I went out there last week," Damon told him. "A guy named Pete showed me around. It's impressive." He continued flipping through the book. "They wrote down every single tree that came through there back in the 40s. Doesn't make much sense as to why, but no one can say Salvatore timber didn't document everything. Looks like they stopped logging individual trees and went to trailer loads in '48."

"It's all computerized now, right?" Stefan asked. He put his book down and resumed his walk to the fridge, set on a beer after a long day at the hospital.

"Since '04," Damon confirmed. "Apparently someone lost an arm right before Thanksgiving in '03 and that inspired our old man to go digital, get his men off the line and stop feeding wood through the saws by hand."

"I remember that," Stefan said as he pulled open the fridge. "There was a lawsuit."

"Dad won," Damon replied. "They proved negligence on the man's part. But Salvatore Timber still covered his medical expenses and gave his family a tidy sum to get them through the holidays." He shut his book and stretched his arms over his head, realizing he'd been reading over them for a couple of hours now.

"I guess Dad figured that was the right thing to do," Stefan said. Damon realized Stefan was looking through the fridge in search of food. He heard Elena's voice in his mind, encouraging him to be nicer to his brother, attempt to bond with him. He groaned inwardly as he bit the metaphorical bullet.

"Want to get some dinner?" he asked. Stefan stopped and turned towards Damon.

"What?" he asked, surprised for the second time in minutes. He wasn't sure he'd heard his older brother correctly.

"Dinner," Damon repeated. "There's this burger and beer garden place on the edge of town that's supposed to be pretty good."

"The Pharmacy," Stefan told him with a nod of recognition. "A guy I went to high school with owns it. It lives up to its billing."

"So how about it?" Damon asked. "Not sure if you've figured it out yet, but there's not much here that's not a granola bar or a mealy apple."

"Let me run upstairs and change out of my scrubs," Stefan told him.

"Make it snappy," Damon replied. "I'm hungry." Stefan rolled his eyes and started out of the kitchen. "And don't bother with taking time to fix your hair," Damon called after him. "You're in a relationship now. It's okay to let yourself go."

"Be back in five minutes, tops," Stefan shot back. He was surprised by Damon's sudden change in attitude, but he had a pretty good idea as to what – or rather who – was behind it. He hurried upstairs and quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Then, for spite, he ran some gel through his hair to return the front to its usual poof. He returned downstairs to find Damon pocketing his wallet and cell phone.

"Well done with the quick change," Damon quipped. He reached out and patted Stefan's freshly gelled hair. "Let's go. I'm driving."

"Why do you get to drive?" Stefan asked, following his brother to the garage.

"I'm older."

"Fine. But I have the better car." Damon scoffed.

"Hardly," he replied. "My Camaro is pure American muscle." They climbed into Damon's car, their argument over foreign versus American-made cars continuing the entire drive to the restaurant.

* * *

><p>Damon had to give credit where credit was due. The Pharmacy had lived up to its reputation. He and Stefan had opted to sit outside, their picnic table now littered with peanut hulls, plates loaded with burgers and fries and empty beer bottles. The place only offered locally produced beers and Stefan had turned out to be knowledgeable about the local breweries, giving Damon recommendations which had proved to be spot on and earning himself a touch more of Damon's respect in the process.<p>

"This is dangerously good," Damon commented, turning up his second bottle of Jomo.

"You should try the Snow Blind. It's seasonal – won't come out until around Thanksgiving – but damn, it's good."

"I'll keep it in mind," Damon said. He took a big bite of his burger which, he'd learned from their waitress as she'd given her standard spill about the menu, was 100% sourced locally. It was easily one of the best burgers he'd ever had.

"How was New York?" Stefan asked. So far, they had managed to keep conversation flowing and civil, no snide comments or low blows exchanged. It was a feat for Stefan, a near miracle for Damon.

"It was New York," Damon answered with a shrug. "I flew in, took care of business and flew right back out." He took another swig of his beer. "But it was loud," he added, remembering how annoyed he'd been by the constant hum of the city, something he'd never paid much mind to before, merely raising his voice to be heard if he were on the streets and letting the medley of traffic, horns and sirens lull him to sleep at night. "Mystic Falls is so quiet that the streets sounded like a U2 concert turned up to 11."

Their waitress appeared, asking if they needed anything. They both requested another beer, an unspoken agreement passing between them that it would be their third and final one, at least until they got home.

"Where's the British babe at tonight?" Damon asked. "Figured you'd want to be with your hot girlfriend instead of your hot brother after another 48 hour shift."

"Her name is Rebekah," Stefan told him pointedly. "Stop calling her the 'British Babe.' It's rude."

"Or it's a compliment," Damon said with a shrug. "I'm just saying – she's not ugly." Stefan rolled his eyes.

"She had a work thing tonight," he said, answering Damon's question. "She works in fundraising for UVA. They were having some reception or something for alumni of the art department."

"You planning on sticking with her?" Damon asked. He silently wished Elena were around right then to witness him making an effort to bond with his brother. He'd be sure to give her a detailed recap.

"I mean, yeah," Stefan said with a shrug. "I love her, you know? We've been together for almost a year and it's been good. She understands my crazy work hours, supports me in what I do. I'm actually going to spend Thanksgiving with her family."

"Where's she from?"

"Surrey, originally, but her family moved to Chicago when she was nine for her dad's job and they've been there ever since. She's got four brothers. They'll probably kick my ass, just because. One of them plays rugby so I'm guessing he'll be most likely to deliver the fatal blow." Damon smirked, fitting together a few facts to come to a realization.

"Her last name is Mikelson, right?" Stefan nodded and Damon outright laughed.

"What?" Stefan demanded.

"The rugby player brother? His name is Flynn Mikelson. I don't know much about rugby, but I do know he's got a reputation for being ruthless. You're screwed if you mess with his little sister."

"Thanks, Damon, that just made me feel a hundred times better about meeting her entire family."

"You're welcome," Damon said, working his way through the large portion of fries on his plate.

"What about you and Elena?" Stefan asked. "What's going on there?"

Damon's first reaction was to tell Stefan to mind his own business or else that there was nothing going on with him and Elena. But he stopped himself, realizing that there was something going on between them and Stefan may actually prove to be beneficial. He knew Elena well, after all, a fact Damon was still trying to reconcile, and he was a relationship kind of guy. His brother might actually have something to offer.

"It's – complicated," Damon said. "Not in a bad way, exactly, just…" His words failed him as he tried to figure out how to explain what was going on between him and Elena.

"Just complicated," Stefan said with an understanding nod. "I get it. She lives here, you live in New York. And, to point out the obvious, relationships aren't your strong suit." Damon checked himself before retorting with something defensive – or offensive – regarding his experience in being half of a couple.

"She's pretty great," he admitted instead. "She's beautiful, but she's also smart, successful. Compassionate."

"She likes you too, you know," Stefan told him. "She and Rebekah spent all of Friday night discussing their respective Salvatore. She's yours to lose, brother."

"What'd she say about me?" Damon asked curiously. "And why did Rebekah tell you, anyway? Isn't there a girl code or something?"

"I don't know about the girl code, but she just told Rebekah that she liked you. You've gotten under her skin. She sees past some of your more…" he faltered, trying to find the right words to describe Damon's less than attractive habits without upsetting Damon.

"Questionable behavior," Damon supplied.

"Questionable behavior," Stefan repeated with a nod. "She thinks you're a good guy under all that big city swagger." Damon didn't respond, keeping his eyes on his plate of food as he ate. He was having trouble relating to the fact that Elena saw him as a good person when he saw himself as damaged and reckless.

"You ever consider moving back here?" Stefan asked. He knew it was a bold question, but it was one he had to ask. Damon hesitated before he responded.

"No," he said honestly. Because he hadn't considered it, at least not seriously. "But I never say never. I've learned life is unpredictable. You can make all the plans in the world until one big wrench comes along and screws them all up." Stefan nodded, wondering if Elena could possibly be one of the wrenches Damon was speaking of. Since he was already asking difficult questions, he decided he'd take the plunge and ask the hardest one of all.

"You ready for the reading of Dad's will tomorrow?"

"Should be pretty straightforward," Damon said with a shrug. "Chester will read a document, you'll get a house or two, maybe the lumberyard, surely a ton of cash. And then I can relinquish my executor duties and resume a normal life."

"Damon, in all seriousness, what makes you think you're written out of Dad's will?"

"Stefan, you're an adult now. Surely I don't need to explain to you all the ways and all the times that our father proved he only gave a damn about one of us." Stefan shook his head sadly.

"That's not true, Damon," he said. "He loved you. He was proud of the man you've become. He'd have told you himself if you'd given him the chance."

"I've long since accepted the fact that you believe Giuseppe Salvatore walked on water," Damon said, his tone turning cold. "Consider this topic closed for conversation." Stefan pierced his lips and nodded, downing the rest of his beer. He reached for the fresh one the waitress had just deposited on their table.

"So, how about the Redskins? Think they've got a chance this year?"

"A snowball's chance in hell," Damon replied, running with the change in topic. "But Harper James will have a good year."

Knowing his window talking about anything significant with Damon had passed, Stefan continued with the sports talk and kept things superficial for the remainder of dinner, even managing to carry it through the ride home, taking advantage of the fact that Damon knew a significant amount about some of his favorite teams to pick his brain.

As they pulled into the garage of the Salvatore Boarding House, however, the usual tension between the brothers started to fill back in.

"I'm going to call Rebekah," Stefan said, ending an argument over who was the best running back in the AFC. "Thanks for picking up the tab."

"Harper James was mentioned," Damon replied. "It's now a business meeting I can deduct from my taxes." Stefan shook his head as he got out of the car and headed inside. He unlocked the phone to call Rebekah but before he dialed, he texted Elena.

_Just had dinner with Damon and everyone survived. I owe you one._

* * *

><p><strong>Remember, I live almost exactly where the fictitious Mystic Falls is believed to be on a map of Virginia. There are TONS of quarries around here, all filled with water after they had been maxed out. I thought it was pretty cool to incorporate a little bit of my town's soapstone history into the story. :) <strong>

**Thanks for reading - please let me know what you think!**


	13. Chester

**Well, here we go. This is the scene I dreamed up sitting at work one day - the reading of the will and subsequent fall out - that inspired me to write this fanfic in the first place. I've built everything that has happened and will happen around this and I'm ultimately pretty happy with how its turned out. **

**I'd like to apologize for not updating over the weekend. I try to update once on the weekends and once mid-week, given how far ahead I've written this story - but to be honest, I did absolutely _nothing _this weekend. It was rather embarrassing, just how lazy I was. At least I went to my Pure Barre classes?**

**Thank you to each and every one of you for reading and especially for reviewing. I _love _reading your thoughts, your speculations, your questions. Please, by all means, keep them coming! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries. I just day dream while writing advertising copy.**

* * *

><p>Damon studied his appearance in his bathroom mirror. He adjusted his tie and ran a comb through his hair to smooth a few strays into place. He'd actually bothered with styling it that morning, something he hadn't done since his father's funeral although he'd been one to comb his hair into place each morning before hitting the streets of New York to tackle his day. He hadn't felt the need to worry with it in Mystic Falls. As he straightened his jacket, he assumed it was ironic in some way that he'd opted to wear the same suit he'd donned for his father's funeral. Satisfied with his appearance, he left the bathroom, picked up his keys and he made his way downstairs and out the door, noting that Stefan's car was already gone. Once he was on the road, he called Elena.<p>

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," he replied. Elena could hear the anxiety in his voice that he was working to hide from her. "You sitting around, being beautiful?"

"Well, I'm sitting around," Elena admitted. "I haven't actually gotten out of bed yet." Damon groaned.

"Don't tease."

"I should have gotten up and gone for a run this morning, but someone wouldn't let me."

"Such a jackass," Damon replied. "Keeping a girl from her run. I'd never do something like that."

"No, never," Elena agreed seriously, getting a chuckle out of Damon.

He had ended up driving out to the lake after he'd gotten home from dinner with Stefan. He hadn't seen Elena the day before and he knew he likely wouldn't get to see her the next day and so, rather than go three days without her, he had taken a chance and shown up at her door unannounced. To his relief, she'd been happy to see him. They had sat on the dock for a while, talking about nothing of importance, and then returned inside to watch some TV show she'd recorded that had him rolling his eyes within the first few minutes. When the credits rolled, they had fallen into bed where they'd stayed, wrapped up in one another until Damon had to leave to get ready for the reading of his father's will.

"I'd say you still got in your cardio," Damon mused, recalling some of the highlights from the night before.

"At least some endurance training," Elena quipped. Then she got serious. "You okay?" Damon sighed. He couldn't get used to the fact that Elena genuinely seemed to care, that she actually worried about him.

"I'm okay," he said, even though they both knew he was lying. "I'm just ready to get this over with."

"And then what?" Elena asked.

"That, Princess, is the million dollar question," Damon muttered. With the reading of the will, he would have decisions to make, most of which involved Elena. He couldn't let her go, but he wasn't sure if he could hold on to her either with the lifestyle he led.

"Everything will be fine," Elena soothed.

"You make me want to believe you," Damon replied as he pulled along the curb of Chester's office. "I'm here. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," Elena agreed. "I may be out of bed by then." Damon smirked.

"Stay put," he said. "Or don't. Either way, I know how I'll be picturing you."

"Goodbye, Damon," Elena said. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes, a smile on her face.

"Bye, Lena," he replied.

Ending the call, he took a deep breath and forced himself out of the car. He felt his defenses building with each step he took along Chester's sidewalk, all traces of the peaceful feeling he'd had when he'd woken up with Elena that morning replaced by everything from anxiety to guilt. Inside, the receptionist pointed him down a hallway. Pausing outside Chester's office, he took a moment to steel himself against what was to come and pull his iron mask firmly in place before he entered the office.

"Damon!" Chester greeted. He was a jolly older man, as round as he was tall. Balding with a short, well-groomed beard, he wore gold wire framed glasses and sat proudly in a gaudy velvet armchair. He reminded Damon of an owl. Stefan was already there, seated on an equally gaudy loveseat, dressed in a pinstriped gray suit and wringing his hands. Damon scoffed to himself, thinking of everyone in the room, Stefan was the last one that should show any sense of nervousness. "Good to see you m'boy!" Chester continued. "How have you been?"

"Let's fast forward over the small talk and get this over with," Damon quipped, folding his frame into the other velvet armchair. Given the lawyer's retainer fee, surely he could have afforded some better furniture.

"Oh," Chester stumbled, surprised by Damon's lack of tact. "Um, yes, okay. You're both here and I have the will so I guess that's all we need to get started…" He picked up a sheath of papers from a side table and shuffled through them. Stefan shot the man a sympathetic look, earning himself a glare from Damon. Stefan bit his lip. The cease fire that had formed during their dinner the night before was apparently over.

"Go ahead, Chester," Stefan encouraged. Damon rolled his eyes, causing Stefan to blow out a breath of annoyance.

"Very well," Chester said, adjusting his glasses. "Let's see here… Ah yes. _I, Giusseppe Piero Salvatore, residing at 4015 Mission Street, Mystic Falls, Virginia, 22969, __declare that this is my last will and testament, and that I hereby revoke, annul and cancel all wills and codicils previously made by me, either jointly or severally…" _

"Skip all the legal garble," Damon interrupted. "We know the man's address." Chester looked at Damon for a long moment, considering whether he would humor him. Damon returned his gaze with a cold glare, made even icier by the mere color of his eyes. Finally, with a nod from Stefan, Chester shuffled the papers and found where the listing of assets begun.

"This is all straightforward," Chester told the brothers. "Giusseppe left his assets to few people."

"Keep reading," Damon chided. "I'd like to get out of here while it's still daylight." It was barely eleven o'clock. Chester shook his head slightly in annoyance but started to read the list of assets and to whom they were bequeathed.

Giuseppe's fortune was divided evenly between Stefan and Damon, save for a portion earmarked for charity, the one line item of the will Damon expected as he didn't believe his father had the balls to write him out entirely, based solely on his need to uphold the family name which would be marred if he denied his oldest son any piece of an inheritance. This painting and that artifact went to the Mystic Falls Historical Society. Some old, glass-encased saw went to Peter at the mill who would appreciate it for its sentimental value.

The books in the library were to go to Damon who snorted in response. He had planned to take the books that belonged to his mother with him, whether they were his to take or not. Stefan was to receive this painting, that knickknack. They were both, officially, granted ownership of the cars they drove, Damon's Camaro once his mother's, Stefan's Porsche once his father's.

Chester rambled on, most of Giuseppe's worldly possessions going to close family friends or Uncle Zach, his only brother. Chester even received the occasional item, being that he had been Giuseppe's lawyer practically since he could afford the retainer fee. Damon made the occasional impatient clucking noise to hurry things along. Chester shifted his eyes towards him whenever he did, clearly annoyed, but stood his ground, reading the will good and proper.

Giuseppe had dictated that each of his sons receive a selection of their late mother's jewelry. They were both to inherit a set of her earrings, diamond encrusted, expensive and kept in a safe at the bank. Stefan was bequeathed a string of pearls while Damon was granted the engagement ring Giuseppe had proposed to his wife with. Stefan kept his eyes downcast, idly tracing the paisley pattern of the couch with his finger as he listened. He knew – and Giuseppe had known as well – that the ring had been in Damon's possession for years after he'd slipped it out of the safe in Giuseppe's office when he'd spied it had been left open. Stefan also knew he it hadn't been the ring he'd proposed to Katherine with.

"To my son, Stefan, I leave the beach house in Hatteras Island, North Carolina," Chester read. "May it bring him and those he chooses to share it with many years of fond memories. I only ask that he use it more often than I."

"Congratulations," Damon drawled dryly. "You and the Brit got yourself a cute little vacation home." Stefan had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from responding. Chester looked between the brothers, aware of the ever thickening tension, took a breath, and continued reading.

"To my eldest son, Damon, I leave the Salvatore Boarding House." Damon sat up sharply, not sure he'd heard the man correctly. "It is my wish that he one day remembers it is his home."

It was the first time Stefan had ever seen Damon speechless. Chester, well aware of Damon's mood swings and overall unpleasantness, seized the opportunity to read the last part of the will which he knew would likely lead to fireworks, either right then and there or later, once the information had been processed.

"Finally, my legacy, left to me by my own father, Salvatore Mill," he read. "Built by callused hands, determination and true grit, it is my wish for it to continue to grow and prosper. To my employees, who have been the backbone of Salvatore Mills, I leave twenty percent of the holdings. To my son, Stefan, I leave thirty percent in the hopes that he will remain a part of the family business, even as he follows his heart into medicine.

"The remaining and thereby controlling fifty percent, I leave to my first born, Damon." Stefan watched as Damon's jaw dropped slightly at the news, still recovering from the shock of the boarding house. "May he also remember where he came from."

Silence filled the room. Chester waited, anticipating what was to come. Stefan, too, waited, watching Damon for his reaction. It took a few moments, but Damon slowly shook his head as though clearing away cobwebs before turning to Chester.

"What do I need to sign?" he asked, his tone all business. "To make this stuff final and to bequeath my inheritance to Stefan?"

"Damon," Stefan started. But his words failed him. He wasn't sure what to say, how to explain.

"While there is paperwork concerning the will, you won't be able to sign over nor sell the house or the mill for six months," Chester told Damon. He looked him dead in the eye as he spoke, making sure the young man across from him was listening closely. "Your father saw to it that that was an ironclad stipulation." Stefan saw the fire fill Damon's eyes as it happened.

"Why?" Damon demanded. Chester didn't answer immediately, but produced a manila envelope from his briefcase. He reached inside and removed two more envelopes. He glanced at the neat lettering on the outside and passed one to Stefan, the other to Damon.

"I believe these may contain more answers than I can provide," he said. "Your father penned each of you a letter in the days after his terminal diagnosis. I don't know what's in them, but he put them in my possession and asked that you only receive them following his death and the reading of his will." Stefan immediately opened his, but Damon merely glanced at the thick envelope in his hand before rounding back on Chester.

"Bullshit," he said, glaring at the lawyer. "Giuseppe trusted you with his life. You know what his motives were. Tell me." Chester shook his head.

"I only know that he made his decisions early into his illness and reaffirmed them in his final days. These are his final wishes."

Damon felt anger rising, bubbling up from the pit of his stomach. His father, even dead, had a motive. It hadn't been enough for him to trap him in Mystic Falls for weeks following his death. He had to burden him with the family business and the family home and then ensure that he couldn't escape the responsibility. He'd have his own lawyer review the will, but he knew his father. The man was shrewd, as was Chester, despite his seemingly gentle demeanor. There would be no loophole.

Giuseppe practically had a second career in reminding Damon of how irresponsible he was, how he lacked direction, needed to square his head on his shoulders and start making better decisions. Even from his grave, he was reminding Damon that he wasn't good enough, that he was ultimately destined to fail. He had no interest in running a sawmill, no desire to make the Salvatore Boarding House his home. He didn't want any of this. It was all meant for Stefan, the brother that actually gave a damn about sentimental things like family homes and businesses.

He realized something then. Snippets of conversations with Stefan filled his mind, snapping into place like pieces of a puzzle. He rounded on his brother who was engrossed in his letter, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"You knew," he accused. Stefan looked up and saw fury in Damon's eyes, fury he didn't understand. "You knew Dad planned on doing this." When Stefan didn't deny it, Damon knew he was right. "Son of a bitch! You couldn't tell me? Give me a heads up? Of course you couldn't! You've been in on whatever Dad's master plan is all along!"

Damon stood then, too angry to remain seated. He pushed a hand through his hair as he started to pace the small room.

"Damon, it's not what you think," Stefan started. He used the same calming voice he drew upon when talking to patients who had just been through a significant trauma and were scared or badly injured. In this case though, he felt like he were talking to a wild, caged animal instead of his own brother.

"Like hell it isn't!" Damon snapped. "Dear old Dad didn't give a damn about me, not since the day you were born and my mother died. Now he's leaving me the family home and the family business? There's an ulterior motive and I'll be damned if I fall victim to it. The man is dead. He can't keep screwing with me."

"Damon, just read your letter," Stefan tried again, keeping his voice calm. "That will explain…"

"I'm not reading some bullshit letter," Damon scoffed. "If Giuseppe Salvatore had anything worth saying to me, he would have said it to me while he was still alive, faced me like a man."

"He couldn't when you wouldn't come home," Stefan reminded him, this time with a bite in his voice.

The brothers stared at one another for a long, tense moment, both remembering the phone calls and messages, Giuseppe asking Damon to come home one last time, Stefan taking over the role when Giuseppe was too weak to dial the phone. It had been more than a year since Damon had visited. He had called as they were pulling the turkey out of the oven on Thanksgiving, which would be Giuseppe's last, just long enough to tell Rebekah who had answered the house phone that he was at a football game in Detroit and wouldn't be making it, even though they had set him a place, expecting him any minute. He'd hung up before Rebekah had time to so much as acknowledge who was on the other end of the call.

"I had no goodbyes to say," Damon said coldly. He turned his glare back to Chester. "Have whatever papers I need to sign sent to the boarding house no later than first thing tomorrow," he ordered. He swept from the room, leaving his letter behind. Chester picked it up from where it had fluttered to the floor and passed it to Stefan for safe keeping.

"That went about as well as we expected," he commented. Stefan nodded in agreement.

"I hope Dad knew what he was doing," he said, gently fingering the thick paper of his letter he still held in his hands, not yet finished reading it. He noted that Damon's was much thicker, but knew too that his father had a lot to say to his oldest son that Damon hadn't allowed him to say in person.

"Giuseppe Salvatore always knew what he was doing," Chester said with confidence. "I trust him blindly, even in death." Stefan nodded.

"Me too," he confirmed. He stood and offered Chester his hand. "Thank you. For everything. Today, during Dad's illness, all these years." Chester shook his hand, clapping him on his shoulder with his other hand.

"Your father was a dear friend," he said. "And I'm here if you – or your brother – need anything."

"Thank you," Stefan said with a nod, thinking it wasn't all that unlikely that Damon would need a lawyer by the time he was done doing whatever damage he'd inevitably leave in his wake as the day unfolded. He knew how Damon reacted to situations out of his control and it was never good. Chester started to gather his papers.

"Need a ride home?" he asked. Stefan shook his head.

"No, thanks," he replied. "I had the foresight to drive separate."

* * *

><p>Stefan stopped outside the front door of the Boarding House to take a long, deep breath, bracing himself for what he was sure awaited him inside. The reading of the will had been several hours ago now. He'd given Damon some space and gone to Rebekah's to wait for her to get home from work, knowing it would only end badly – at least, worse than it was already destined to – if he followed his brother right then. After taking Rebekah to an early dinner, he'd steeled himself to deal with Damon and returned to the Boarding House. As ready as he could be to confront his irrational older brother, he pushed through the front door.<p>

He wasn't at all surprised to find Damon slouched on the couch holding a cigar, his suit coat and tie discarded in a pile on the floor, his dress shirt untucked and mostly unbuttoned. Empty liquor bottles littered the couch, coffee table and floor around Damon and the smell of alcohol, mingled with the rich scent of the cigar, was thick. Damon had abandoned his glass, now drinking directly out of the bottle. He'd gotten messy at some point, bourbon splashed down his front.

"Brother," Damon greeted, tipping the half full bottle of whiskey towards him in greeting before turning it up. Stefan sighed,waving his hand through the heavy cigar smoke. It was a wonder the smoke alarms weren't going off.

"Damon, what are you doing?"

"Drinking my liquor," Damon answered. He realized he was holding a cigar in his hand. "Burning through cigars. Did you know Dad had these? Cubans. The finest. Of course. Nothing but the best for Giuseppe Salvatore."

"You're drunk," Stefan stated, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Very," Damon confirmed. "But it's my liquor so I can do what I want with it." He eyed his brother, or tried to as he was seeing double. "You know, this is my house now. I could kick you out. I should kick you out."

"You won't."

"Won't I?" Damon replied. "You've been a pain in my ass since the day you were born."

"You haven't been a picnic either," Stefan responded. He debated briefly on starting to clean up the trashed living room, but decided it wasn't worth it until Damon passed out for the night.

"I don't want this place," Damon stated. He swigged from his bottle. "I don't want the mill. I don't want any of this. I just want to get the hell out of here and never look back."

"Why?" Stefan challenged. "What is it about this place that you hate so much?"

"You," Damon answered nonchalantly. "Dad too, but he's gone now so… Just you." Stefan didn't bother to cover up the fact that Damon's words cut deep.

"A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts," he replied evenly.

"You know, life was good around here until you came along," Damon continued, not paying much mind to Stefan. "I had a mom. She was a good mom. She loved me. And Dad? He loved me too. But then you came along and Mom died and Dad decided he only loved you. I spent twelve years waiting to be old enough to get the hell out of here."

"And you did get out of here, didn't you?" Stefan asked. He made a disgusted face as Damon struggled to sit up in his drunken state. He somehow managed to drop the cigar into the ashtray on the coffee table, saving Stefan a moment's panic. He had no doubt that coupled with the amount of alcohol in the room, the place would have gone up in flames had it landed anywhere else.

"You got out of here and made yourself a big time sports agent, got yourself a high rise apartment in Manhattan, more money than you know what to do with. It's a pretty great life you've got going, Damon. Drinking until your liver floats every night, bedding a new girl while you're at it. You don't care about anything or anyone but yourself, don't settle down, don't commit to anything or anyone. It's a great life you've got going on. Until you come home to an empty apartment. You have nothing, Damon. But you could have everything."

"You don't know a damn thing about me," Damon slurred.

"I know you're holding on to a whole lot of anger," Stefan replied, his voice steady. "And for whatever reason, that anger is mostly directed at me."

"Damn right it is," Damon said. He unsteadily rose to his feet, using the couch for support. "You killed Mom." Stefan's stomach dropped, even as he held his ground.

"It's not my fault she's gone," he said, although there was a part of him that didn't believe that, no matter what his father had told him over the years or what he'd learned in medical school. "She had eclampsia, she bled out. They couldn't save her."

"I never understood why Dad chose you," Damon continued, leaving Stefan to wonder if Damon even heard him. "He loved Mom. More than anything, even you. You killed her and yet he still chose you."

"Dad didn't choose anyone," Stefan said. "He did what he had to do – parented a new born and a six year old who didn't have a mother…"

"Parented my ass!" Damon snapped. The liquor bottle slipped out of his hand and crashed to the floor, shattering as he took a few uneven steps towards Stefan. "He didn't even tell me Mom died! I found out from overhearing the neighbors talking about it, how poor Damon had lost his mother and poor Giuseppe had lost his wife and poor baby Stefan would never know his mother. I didn't get to go to the funeral. I didn't get to say goodbye. My mother left me with our neighbor, told me she was going to the hospital to have my baby brother and would see me soon. I never saw her again.

"Did Dad give a damn? No. I had no one to tuck me into bed at night. Mom used to read me stories and sing to me. I had to put myself to bed, look at the pictures in my books because I couldn't read them on my own. Nannies got me out of bed and fed me breakfast every morning. I didn't play sports because Dad didn't bother to sign me up for any. He put you in plenty though, didn't he? Tell me, Stefan, was there anything you weren't all-state in? Cheerleading maybe? Except you had Elena so I guess you ultimately won some prize for that too."

"Damon, you're drunk," Stefan warned. "You're saying stuff you don't mean.'

"I mean every word of it," Damon insisted. He took another couple of stumbling steps. "You ruined my life." Anger that had been brewing and heating up just below the surface for over the years finally erupted in Stefan.

"Screw you, Damon," he spat. "You think growing up was a picnic for me? You at least had a mom for six years. I've never had one. Those same nannies got me out of bed and fed me breakfast too, remember? Dad tried, Damon. You pushed him away. I tried too. But you didn't want a damn thing to do with me. I grew up without a mom and with an older brother who hated my guts. So you know what? You're right. I had Dad. But that's all I had."

"Now you have Rebekah," Damon said simply. "And a beach house." He walked a wavering line towards the hallway. Stefan, torn between beating the hell out of him and making sure he didn't hurt himself in his intoxicated state, followed. He realized Damon was headed for the table they always tossed their car keys on when they came in from the garage. He easily outmaneuvered Damon and snatched the Camaro keys and his own Porsche keys for good measure. "Give me my damn keys," Damon seethed.

"You're drunk," Stefan said again. "I'd like nothing more than to knock your teeth out right now, but I'm not going to let you get behind the wheel. I clean up the aftermath of drunk driving accidents too often. I'm not letting you put some innocent person's life in danger. Or your own."

"I said, give me my keys!" Damon tried to swipe them away from Stefan, but his coordination was shot. He stumbled into the wall, knocking several framed prints off in the process.

"Go upstairs and sleep it off," Stefan advised. "You're going to feel like hell in the morning, but it'll serve you right."

"This is my house. You can't tell me what to do."

"I can when you're not in any shape to make your own decisions," Stefan said firmly. He went to Damon and grabbed him by his arm. "Upstairs," he ordered. Damon jerked away from him, again falling into the wall and knocking more frames to the ground.

"Go to hell," he told Stefan. He swayed his way to the door.

"Where are you going?" Stefan demanded.

"Out," Damon answered. He went through the front door, slamming it shut behind him. Stefan let him go. He had the keys. Damon was on foot so he wouldn't get but so far and maybe the cooling air would help sober him up.

With a heavy sigh, he turned to the living room to start cleaning up, hoping the mundane task would calm him down, take some of the edge off. That's when he heard the familiar roar of his motorcycle. He barely made it outside in time to see Damon speeding down the driveway on his bike, disappearing out of site, weaving as he went.

* * *

><p>Elena approached her door cautiously. It was after eleven o'clock and whoever was on the other side of it was insistent, pounding their fists against her door without ceasing. She cautiously peered through the peep hole and sighed when her suspicions were confirmed. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.<p>

"Damon," she said. She took in his disheveled appearance, her nose crinkling as the strong scent of bourbon and smoke filled her nostrils. His clothes were dirty and his hair was messy to the point of being tangled instead of sexy. His eyes were bloodshot and he swayed slightly, even as he stood in place. An empty liquor bottle lay at the foot of her porch steps.

"'Lena," he slurred. He reached a hand out to place it on her cheek, but, guessing wrong as to which of the two Elenas in his vision was the real one, his hand merely fell back to his side. She sighed.

"You're drunk," she stated.

"I am," he confirmed. "And you're pretty." He stumbled forward and managed to place his hands on either of her cheeks. He leaned down and gave her a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on her lips. Instead of making her melt like his kisses usually did, this one made her cringe and she pulled away quickly, the bitter taste of bourbon strong on her tongue.

"Come on," she said, pushing the door open all the way. "I'll make us some coffee and you can start sobering up."

"I knew you'd let me in," Damon said. He stumbled past her and made a beeline for the kitchen. She paused and took out her phone. She tapped out the phrase _'He's here' _and sent it to Stefan before following Damon. He was opening cabinets haphazardly, leaving the doors open as he went.

"Where's the liquor cabinet?" he asked.

"I think you've had enough," Elena told him. She gave him a wide berth as she went to the coffee pot.

"Never," he slurred. He opened the fridge, holding on to it as he swayed heavily. He shook his head to clear away the dizziness and then bent down to study the contents. Elena blew out a breath in an effort to hold onto her patience as she filled the coffee pot with water. "Aha!" he exclaimed, extricating a half full bottle of wine from a lower shelf.

"Damon, let's have some coffee," Elena tried again as he resumed opening cabinets in search of glasses.

"Got wine," he replied. He found regular drinking glasses. "These'll do," he muttered. He reached for two, knocking over a third one in the process. It smacked the counter but, by some miracle, didn't break. Elena watched him closely as she added coffee grounds to the filter. He pulled the cork out and, even in his ever present state of swaying, managed to start pouring red wine into a glass without spilling it. "Want some?" he asked.

"I'm good," Elena replied in a clipped tone. Damon shrugged, picked up the glass he'd just poured, and took several gulps as though it were milk and not a merlot. "Seriously, Damon, let's put the wine away," she said, approaching him. She took the bottle first and poured the little wine left in it down the sink, praying as she did that he wouldn't spy her wine rack tucked in the corner of her small dining room. Then she reached for Damon's glass.

"You said you didn't want any," Damon said, pulling it out of her reach.

"I changed my mind," Elena answered. Damon smirked and passed her the glass. She took one small sip to fake him out and then poured it down the sink as well. She'd expected Damon to protest but instead, he was stalking towards her as best he could in his inebriated state.

"You're so beautiful," he said. He pinned her between himself and the counter. "So beautiful." He leaned down and kissed her. She made it brief, pushing him away gently, but with enough force to let him know she meant it.

"How about that coffee?" she asked.

"No coffee," Damon said. He ducked his head so he could peck kisses along her jawbone. "I want you."

"Damon," Elena said sternly, even as she fought to keep her eyes from fluttering back in her head at his touch. "Not now. Not when you're like this."

"Like what?" Damon muttered, his hands drifting up her body. He tried to slip a hand under her shirt, but she pushed it away.

"Like this," she repeated. "You're drunk, Damon. Very, very drunk."

"You want me," Damon replied. He tried to kiss her, but he missed and his lips landed on her cheek.

"I want you sober," Elena told him. She once again swatted away his hands. She pushed against him and, using the fact that he was unstable on his feet, managed to free herself once more. "Let me fix you some coffee."

"Did you know I became an even richer man today?" he asked. He tried to sit on a stool but missed, barely catching himself on the counter to avoid hitting the floor. Elena sighed and shook her head in annoyance as she found two coffee mugs.

"I take it you weren't cut out of the will?" she asked. She'd gotten the jest of what had happened when Stefan had called a couple of hours ago to give her a heads up that Damon may be headed her way and was anything but sober, but she wasn't fully aware of what had gone down.

"Got half the old man's fortune," Damon slurred. "And the house. And the mill. He's up to something. He wants the last laugh. But I'm not gonna let him have it. I'm gonna figure it out and I'm gonna be the one whose laughing."

"Maybe this is his way of saying he loves you," Elena said as she poured coffee for them. She kept her tone even, even though her annoyance was growing.

"Not a chance," Damon said. He tried to sit on the stool again and this time, succeeded. "He hated me. I hated him. Now he's screwing with me." Elena skipped sugar and cream for Damon and placed a steaming mug of black coffee in front of him.

"Drink this," she ordered. She turned back to retrieve her own mug, but found herself being pulled back, spinning into Damon's arms.

"How about we go to bed instead?" he asked. He moved to kiss her, but Elena turned her head. "Come on," he whispered, pulling her close to him. "Let's get naked."

"Damon, stop," Elena ordered, trying to pull away. He held on tighter, tried to kiss her again. She pulled away more forcefully. "I said stop." Her tone broke through Damon's lust and alcohol filled haze.

"You don't want me," he said, hurt filling his eyes. He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "Figures." He got to his feet unsteadily. "I'll be going." He started a staggering walk to Elena's front door. She sighed, not entirely sure what was going on, and followed him.

"Damon, wait." He stopped and turned back to her, stumbling several steps to his right, running into the back of the living room couch. She approached him, but kept some space between them. "Of course I want you," she assured him, piecing together her rejection with abandonment issues she wasn't sure even sober Damon was aware he had. "Just not like this. You're drunk and upset. Let's just go get some sleep, okay? Maybe get you a shower, first? We can talk about all of this in the morning."

"I got in fight with Stefan," Damon replied. "It felt good, getting everything off my chest."

"You won't feel that way in the morning," Elena said knowingly. "How did you get here, anyway? I didn't hear a car."

"I walked," Damon said, almost proudly.

"You walked?" Elena asked, not sure she'd heard him right.

"After Stefan's motorcycle ran out of gas. The bastard took my keys. Stefan, not the motorcycle. I mean, Stefan is the bastard."

"I got that," Elena said with a nod. "Where did you run out of gas?" She was trying to retrace Damon's steps, figure out what exactly had happened over the last few hours.

"I dunno," Damon said with a shrug. He stumbled a couple more steps. "There was a gas station. But it was closed."

"Did you run out of gas before or after the gas station?"

"You've got lots of questions."

"And you're not giving me many answers," Elena said with a sigh.

"After the gas station," Damon said. ""I know because I stopped and it was closed so I kept driving and then I ran out of gas so I walked here." Elena nodded. There was a gas station a quarter mile from the lake entrance and her place was nearly a full mile further.

"It's a wonder you didn't get yourself killed," she said, more to herself than Damon. "I'll turn the shower on for you. Why don't you go sit back down in the kitchen and drink your coffee?"

"I don't want coffee," Damon said. He swayed a little, but his words weren't as slurred. "I don't want to take a shower. I want to forget today and I want you." He walked towards Elena again and she took a few steps backwards. She wasn't afraid of him, but she didn't exactly like him at the moment.

"Damon," she warned.

"Just kiss me," he said. "Show me you care."

"I do care, Damon," she told him as sincerely as she could. "I care more than I should. But I don't like you like this. I don't know what happened today, but I know it sent you off the rails and that you said things to Stefan you're probably going to regret in the morning. I'm trying to keep you from doing anything else stupid tonight. So just humor me, okay? Come sit down in the kitchen and drink some coffee. Then, you can take a shower and we can get some sleep. We'll talk about all of this in the morning."

For just a moment, Elena thought she'd gotten through to him. The moment was short lived, however, when Damon took a couple more stumbling steps towards her, catching himself on the back of her sofa again.

"I meant everything I said to Stefan," he informed her. "He ruined my life. My dad didn't love me. Not like he loved Stefan. He wouldn't give me houses and timber mills without an ulterior motive. And you. You don't like me like this?" Damon spread his arms out. "This is me, Elena. This is who I am. You can take it or leave it. But I know you'll leave it. Everyone leaves me eventually and you're too good for me anyway."

With that, Damon turned and, nearly losing his balance yet again, knocked into a side table, sending a lamp made of mercury glass and several picture frames crashing to the floor. The lamp shattered into dozens of small pieces as it hit the ground. Elena closed her eyes briefly, trying not to think of how much the lamp had cost, nor how long it had taken her to find exactly what she'd been looking for to tie her shabby chic living room together when she'd been working to make the place her own.

"Damon, where are you going?" she asked, opening her eyes as he reached her front door.

"Outside," he replied. "Gonna go look at the stars."

Sighing, Elena made to follow him, sure he'd fall in the lake and drown without supervision. He half fell down her porch stairs and then tripped over his own feet as he walked towards the lake. Realizing she couldn't handle him on her own, she did the only think she could think of. She called Stefan.

* * *

><p><strong>So there you have it. SO MUCH happened in this update and that was on purpose. Some of it might be confusing, but it all fits into the big picture. Damon said and did a lot of things and like Stefan said, a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. He'll get to deal with all that in the morning (aka, the next update). Remember, this is as much a story about Damon's personal transformation as it is about him falling for Elena.<br>**

**You also got a bit of insight into Stefan and how he dealt with a number of things over the years. He just wanted a big brother. He also knows some things about what Giuseppe was up to. Not all the things, but some of the things. That Giuseppe was a pretty smart fella. I like him.  
><strong>

**And then we have Elena who got to witness another side of Damon, one that she clearly didn't like very much. He gets to deal with that in the morning too. **

**I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Feel free to ask any questions that come to mind. I may not be able to answer - this story still has a ways to go! - but I'll answer as best I can through PM! **

**Thanks so much for reading and reviewing - I love you all! **


	14. Apologize

**I could not have adored your reactions to the last chapter more. Some of you loved Damon. Some of you hated him. Some of you loved Elena. Some of you hated her. That is _exactly _what I was hoping for. I also love your thoughts on Giuseppe. Without giving much away, I will say he's become one of my favorite characters. Damon and Stefan have very different versions of their father. Which one is the "true" Giuseppe? We'll find out as the story unfolds. **

**But really - thank you so much for reading and for all the reviews last chapter. I really wish I had time to reply to all of you who leave reviews but know that I read each of them and appreciate them greatly. I hope this update answers at least some of your questions. I think it will also give you some insight into Damon and why he does the things he does. It's also, by far, the longest chapter to date. Whew! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries. **

* * *

><p>Damon was vaguely aware of someone moving around the room, but he didn't bother to open his eyes. He could already feel the edges of the hangover that would overtake him as soon as his eyelids pried apart and he planned to stave it off as long as possible.<p>

Without warning, light poured into the room. Even with his eyes closed, the light hurt, penetrating the thin skin of his eyelids. He groaned and threw his arm across his face, trying to block out the light.

"Morning, sunshine," said a voice he didn't want to hear. He moved his arm slightly, just enough to peer out under it, and opened his eyes to see Stefan standing at his feet, his arms crossed, a look of disapproval firmly in place. "It's a beautiful day out. Not a cloud in the sky. All that sunlight, the warm air… Driving back to Mystic Falls is really going to suck for you."

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked as "back to Mystic Falls" registered. He raised his head, letting his arm fall away. "Where am I?"

"The lake," Stefan answered. "You stole my bike and drove up here, remember? And then you ran out of gas, left it laying on side the road, and walked the rest of the way. I'll be sending you a bill for the damage." Damon groaned again and put his arm back over his face, his aching legs now explained.

"Go away," he said weakly, not really comprehending what Stefan had said. He just wanted to sleep.

"No can do," Stefan replied, much too chipper for Damon's liking. "I've already had to find someone to cover part of my shift at the hospital so I could come up here and keep you from accidentally drowning. We need to get a move on. So get your ass up, find your shoes and get in the car." Damon didn't reply, nor make an effort to move. He'd almost fallen back to sleep when Stefan smacked his foot, hard. "Get up, Damon."

"What the hell?" Damon responded, moving his arm once more.

"I've already wasted enough time dealing with your inability to cope with anything that's the least bit hard,"Stefan said. "I'm not going to sit around and let you sleep it off. You can do whatever the hell you want when we get back to Mystic Falls, but for now, we're playing by my rules. Get up, get your shoes on or don't, and get your ass in my car."

"Baby brother grew a pair," Damon mumbled. That earned him another smack from Stefan, again around his feet, followed by another sharp order to get up. Damon made a move to sit up with the intentions of going after Stefan and having the full out brawl that had been brewing between them for years, but pain shot through his head with his sudden movement and he fell back against the sofa.

"You're in no position to run your mouth or swing your firsts right now, big brother," Stefan said with a steel in his voice Damon had never heard before. "I'm pissed off at you, Damon. Now, for the last time, get up and get outside. I've got another 48 hour shift waiting on me which is going to end up being closer to 72 because I get to cover for the guy covering for me right now. And seeing as I got about three hours of sleep last night and tonight is Thirsty Thursday at the university, the ER should be a good time right around when I'd like to be in bed."

Damon blew out a breath, braced himself for the pain that would shoot through his already throbbing head with the change of position, and pushed himself up so he was sitting on the couch. He cradled his head, wincing away from the light pouring in through the big windows, intending to let the current wave of pain subside before he made his next move. Slowly, he released his head and sat up a little straighter, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust to the light. He caught sight of the lake and finally realized where he was – and who wasn't present.

"Where's Elena?" he asked quickly, looking over his shoulder as though he expected to see her standing there.

"Gone," Stefan supplied. "She had some errands to run. For the record, you're going to need more than flowers to get yourself out of this one." Damon groaned again and once more buried his head in his hands, feeling progressively worse, both from his hangover and his new realization that he was at Elena's and she was apparently mad at him. He raked his brain, trying to remember what he'd done. All he could come up with was climbing on Stefan's motorcycle.

"I'll wait for her here," Damon said. He was sure his next run in with Elena wasn't going to be pleasant, but if he had to choose, he'd pick her over Stefan every time.

"Nope. You're going back to Mystic Falls with me. Elena asked me to get you home safely so that's what we're going to do." Damon opened his mouth to protest, but Stefan stopped him. "Save it, Damon. She put up with enough out of you last night. It's in your best interest to do what she asks now."

Guilt settled between his shoulders. He suddenly felt like he had a 200 pound weight resting squarely on his chest. He wasn't going to give Stefan the benefit of admitting he couldn't remember what he'd done the night before, but he was also desperate to figure it out. Not being able to remember the previous night was standard for him, but feeling a sense of guilt over his actions was brand new. He already hated himself for whatever he'd said or done to Elena, without having any idea as to what that was.

"Fine," he said. "Let's go." He pushed himself off the sofa and gave himself a few moments to find his balance, his head spinning. He realized he was barefoot and remembered something about Stefan saying to find his shoes. He had no idea where to begin as he glanced around the room.

"By the door," Stefan told him. "Elena put them there last night." Damon nodded once and started towards the door. Without warning, something sharp stuck into the bottom of his barefoot.

"Son of a bitch!" he cried out, stumbling to sit in the nearest chair. He bent his leg so he could see his foot and found the culprit to be a tiny sliver of silver glass.

"Yeah, there's still pieces of glass from the lamp you broke laying around." Stefan said without concern. He was perched on the arm of the couch, watching Damon with his arms crossed. "Hard to get all those little pieces up at two in the morning, you know? Elena must have missed a few."

Damon sighed, the guilt weighing him down even more. Apparently he'd broken a lamp the night before. How was still a mystery, but the answer wasn't going to be favorable, regardless. He gritted his teeth and pulled the tiny shard from his foot. A bead of blood started to form. Before he could come up with a plan to get himself into the kitchen for a paper towel without ruining Elena's carpet on top of everything else, Stefan was handing him one. Without a thank you, Damon pressed the paper towel to his foot and waited for the bleeding to stop.

"Flush that and let's go," Stefan said after a few minutes. He tossed his car keys impatiently, the sound of metal on metal like nails on a chalkboard and amplified in Damon's hung over state.

Not bothering to argue and in need of a restroom anyway, Damon made his way to Elena's hall bathroom, keeping his eyes out for anything that might clue him in on his behavior the night before. There were coffee mugs on the kitchen counter, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. He peeked into Elena's bedroom as he passed it and saw the bed unmade. Instinct told him that was unusual. Elena was someone who always made her bed in the mornings.

After emptying his bladder, he took a moment to lean on the sink and take a few deep breaths, trying to overcome his dry mouth and throbbing head while wishing desperately for a bottle of water and some pain killers. He lifted his head and took in his appearance.

He looked worse than he felt, an accomplishment by all accounts. His hair was matted, his skin pale. His eyes were bloodshot and his clothes were dirty. He was pretty sure he stunk as well. He let his head fall again, overwhelmed by shame. That was new too. The only thing he'd ever felt after a night of binge drinking and debauchery had been the classic hangover symptoms. At most, he'd felt twinges of regret when he'd had to go into a meeting with a pounding head the next day.

With a heavy sigh, he righted himself and turned on the sink. He splashed some water on his face and used his hand to cup water into his mouth, trying to wet his bone dry palate. He opened Elena's medicine cabinet in search of Tylenol or anything relatively close. He added snooping through her things to his ever growing list of things to feel guilty about as his eyes combed through toiletries, a bottle of makeup remover, band aids, emery boards and an assortment of cold and allergy medicines. His found a bottle of Tylenol and thanked whoever was listening for answering his silent prayer. He took out two, carefully placed it back in its place, and popped them in his mouth, swallowing with another handful of water. He made sure to clean up after himself before he rejoined Stefan.

"Let's go," he grumbled, taking in the table that had once held an elaborate lamp and several photos that was now empty. He shook his head slightly, regretting it almost immediately when a fresh round of pain overtook him.

"Took you long enough," Stefan replied. Damon didn't reply.

He pulled his boots on without any idea as to where his socks were, if he'd had any on at all. He was careful not to look directly at Stefan. He didn't remember what had happened after he left the boarding house, but he did remember arguing with Stefan. What he'd said was fuzzy, but he knew it had easily been the biggest fight they had ever had. The only thing he did clearly remember was that he was now the owner of the Salvatore Boarding House and the controlling share of Salvatore Timber. That suddenly wasn't the most pressing concern in his world, however, so he tabled it for later.

"Save the lecture," Damon said once they were both in Stefan's Porsche. "I don't need to be told I screwed up." Stefan cranked up the car and got it turned around and headed out of the lake before he replied.

"I was rehearsing my lecture and making sure it was long enough to last all the way back to Mystic Falls while I was watching you drool this morning," he said. "But then, I decided it wasn't worth it. You've heard it all before and didn't change your ways then. Why would this time be any different?"

Damon didn't reply. He rested his forehead against the cool window and closed his eyes. He'd never admit it to Stefan, but his words had stung. He understood them for what they were – Stefan wasn't going to waste his breath because he, Damon, wasn't worth it. He was always going to screw up.

* * *

><p>Damon sat on the top of a picnic table, nursing a bottle of water as he tried to sort through his thoughts. His mind was racing faster than he could process things, creating a backlog he kept chipping away at, only to add more to the pile as he tried to and failed to process it all.<p>

After arriving home from Elena's, Stefan had wordlessly disappeared to his room. Damon had followed his lead at a much slower pace, having added nausea to his ever growing list of hangover symptoms. He'd heard Stefan's shower cut on as he walked by and when he'd arrived in his own room, had weighed his options between sleeping and showering, deciding it would be easier to sleep than put the effort into standing under a stream of water and going through the motions of washing off. Sleeping also meant he wouldn't have to think, at least not yet.

He awoke several hours later and dragged himself into the shower, forcing himself to focus just on the feel of the hot water beating down on his back and the steps of washing away the dirt and grime from the day before. Scrub as he did though, the feelings of guilt and shame wouldn't go away. When he finally dragged himself out of the room, he was relieved to find Stefan long gone. He'd have to do deal with him, but if he could delay it, all the better.

His hangover symptoms had eased with sleep and a shower, but he still had a dull headache and his stomach was unsettled. He found his car keys, left on the kitchen island by Stefan, next to a stack of papers from Chester that he chose to ignore for the time being, and ventured to the grocery store where he slipped in, found a can of chicken noodle soup, saltines, and a few bottles of water along with a loaf of bread for good measure, paid, and returned to the Salvatore Boarding House – his house now. He nuked the soup, toasted a couple pieces of bread, opened the package of crackers and sat at the kitchen island, slowly ingesting his makeshift meal.

Then, he finally allowed himself to start processing the night before.

He'd started by locating his phone, telling himself when he finally found it on the floor of his bedroom near the pants he'd worn the day before that he was looking for evidence of what he'd done during his drunken binge and not hoping for a text message or missed phone call from Elena. There had been plenty of texts, calls and emails, but none of them were from her. They were all work-related. He wasn't doing anyone, least of all himself, any favors by essentially taking a second day in a row off work, but he didn't have it in him to wheel and deal.

From there, he had taken to wandering the house, venturing into rooms he hadn't been inside of in years. He'd stopped at the double doors of the master bedroom, his father's room and one time, his mother's, but, even as he'd placed his hands on the door knobs, hadn't had the courage to open them. He'd gone to the library, the one place he'd always been able to find solace, but found himself too restless to think, the house proving to be suffocating. He'd hunted down his car keys once more and headed for somewhere else, anywhere else, where he might be able to clear his mind.

His first instinct had been the cemetery. Like the quarry, it had been one of his safe places once. But once there, he couldn't get out of the car. It was different now that his father was buried beside his mother. It no longer felt like a place he could go to be alone with his thoughts, feel things he didn't like to feel and deal with things – or not deal with things – he didn't like to deal with. And so he had started to drive with no destination in mind and somehow, had ended up at Elena's greenway.

He'd walked aimlessly for a while along the same path he and Elena had jogged along which now felt like ages ago. The clean air and solitude helped ease the remainder of his headache and unsettled stomach although his legs were still aching from his long walk the night before. His foot throbbed with each step, even though the cut from the piece of glass was miniscule. It served as a decent reminder that he'd screwed up. When he'd came across the cluster of picnic tables, he'd taken his pick and perched on one.

Retracing his footsteps was the best place to start. He remembered the will reading with frightening clarity, still as unsure as ever as to why his father had left him with his home and his business. He remembered storming out, getting in his car, and just driving for a while. He'd pulled up to the curb outside of The Grill with intentions of going in to start drinking but after he realized he'd likely have to talk to people if he went inside, he drove himself back to the boarding house where he raided the liquor cabinet. If he had to give credit to Giuseppe for anything, the man had excellent taste in scotch and bourbon, both of which Damon had indulged in.

He remembered Stefan showing up. He'd been sitting on the couch at that point, not able to do much else in his state. He'd found a box of Cuban cigars in his father's office and had taken to lighting them, letting them burn down to nothing, taking the occasional drag. He'd taken the first shot at Stefan and it had snowballed from there.

He had remembered much of what he'd said to Stefan over the course of the day. Some of it had been true, but he hadn't meant most of it. He'd spoken from a dark place in the recesses of his mind, a place where he only went when he took things too far or was especially full of self-loathing.

He knew their mother's death hadn't been Stefan's fault. If anything, Stefan had been the real victim. While Damon had had only six short years with her, Stefan never had the opportunity to know her. She'd had eclampsia and her blood pressure had spiked. She'd gone into cardiac arrest during an emergency c-section and while the medical team had been able to deliver a healthy baby boy, there had been no saving her. Damon strongly suspected her death was a driving factor behind why Stefan had become a doctor.

But as a child, Damon hadn't understood. His mother was there and then she wasn't, but Stefan was. There had been no one to explain it to him, no one to show him how to grieve. His six year old mind had associated Stefan's birth with her death and placed the blame on his new baby brother. He'd craved his father's attention in the days following his mother's passing, but Giuseppe had always been too busy holding Stefan, playing with Stefan or trying to calm a crying Stefan to deal with him. He'd been angry at the rejection and that anger had only stayed with him over the years, growing and expanding no matter how off base it was.

He would have to talk to Stefan. They were grown men and needed to deal with their issues. He wasn't sure what he would say or when he would say it, only that there were things that needed to be said. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face and continued retracing the night before.

The last thing he clearly remembered was getting on Stefan's motorcycle and taking off. He shook his head at his stupidity. He'd gone on benders before, made a lot of stupid decisions, but he'd never driven a vehicle of any sort while intoxicated, never put his life or the life of others on the line like that. He'd seen the motorcycle when he'd left for the grocery store, scratched up and muddy. He'd be writing a fat check for that.

He'd ended up at Elena's somehow. It made sense to him that he'd go there. She'd been in his life for just shy of a month, but she'd become someone he trusted, someone he let see parts of him he kept tucked away. He had no idea how or when she'd broken through his defenses, but she'd done it without his knowledge and he couldn't go back.

Except he'd screwed up. He'd only managed to pull together flashes of what had happened once he'd gotten to Elena's and none of them were in order, or at least they didn't seem to be. There was something about coffee. She'd offered him some, more than once, he thought. He was pretty sure he'd poured a glass of wine at some point too. He'd kissed her, that he knew for sure. And she'd pushed him away. He could hear her voice saying "I do care." The last thing he remembered was stars.

And then he had woken up with Stefan standing over him.

"Dammit," he muttered into the silence surrounding him, tugging at his hair in frustration. He didn't know how much damage had been done, if he could salvage things between them. He didn't know how to face her, apologize when he had no idea what he'd done. He'd made up his mind after his brief trip to New York that he was going to try with Elena. He was going to put himself on the line and give a relationship a shot. He'd been waiting to have that talk with Elena. Waiting to see what the outcome of the will would be as his life was in New York and his job took him all over the country. Whatever happened between them would have to involve long distance which he knew was a lot to ask. Now there was a very real chance he'd ruined things before they even got started.

With a sigh, he heaved himself off the picnic table and started back down the trail to his car, knowing he needed to find Elena and grovel. He limped a bit as he made his way down the path, his foot throbbing. But as much as it hurt, it had nothing on the pressure that had settled in his chest.

* * *

><p>Elena chewed on her lip, trying to focus on the Disney movie playing out before her as she lounged on the couch with Ella who was nearly asleep, her hair damp from her bath, her princess nightgown, a size too big but featuring her favorite princess, swallowing her tiny frame. The bear Damon had won for her at the festival lay at the opposite end of the couch, serving as Ella's foot rest now, her tea party guest earlier.<p>

Even as the movie reached its big musical number, Elena found it hard to concentrate, her mind wandering to Damon. Stefan had called Elena earlier in the day, letting her know he had left Damon safe and sound, sleeping off a massive hangover in his own bed. That knowledge had eased some of her worries, but only marginally. She had managed to fill in some of the blanks, but she was still unclear about how Damon had gone from the anxious man she'd spoken with on the phone before the reading of the will to the drunk and unruly one she had d found at her door. She was both worried about him and upset with him.

The sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted the after dinner quiet that had settled through the home. "I'll get it!" Elena called out, moving carefully so she didn't wake Ella who slept right through the noise. Jenna called her thanks from the kitchen while she heard Ric moving around upstairs, likely cleaning up after Ella's bath and the preceding tea party.

She glanced at the hallway clock as she approached the door. It was just after seven. She didn't bother to check who was on the other door before she swung it open. She found she wasn't surprised to see Damon, a bouquet of flowers in hand, standing before her. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Damon," she said, careful to keep her tone neutral. He indicated the flowers in his hand.

"I know I'm going to need more than flowers," he said, borrowing the line Stefan had used earlier which had been running through his mind ever since. "But I'm hoping they will help break the ice." Elena didn't reach for the flowers or make any other indication that she was willing to hear him out. Damon felt his heart clench, more sure than he'd been as he'd walked up the sidewalk after spying her car parked on the curb that she was going to tell him to go to hell.

"Damon! Hey!" came Alaric's voice. He appeared on the staircase, making his way downstairs with a towel thrown over his shoulder and an assortment of toddler sippy cups in his hands.

"Hey, Ric," Damon replied with a polite nod, even though he didn't much feel small talk with his old friend at the moment. Ric's eyes fell on the bouquet.

"Flowers," he said. "Someone's in trouble." The half-hearted turn upward of one corner of Damon's lips was enough to tell Ric he was right. "I'm going to take these cups to the kitchen and then put the little one to bed," he said, realizing his presence wasn't required right then. Damon watched him walk away for a few moments before he took a steadying breath and turned back to Elena, his eyes soft and pleading.

"Can we talk?" he asked. "Please?"

It felt like an eternity instead of just the few moments it actually was before Elena nodded and stepped out onto the porch. He followed her, limping slightly, to the swing where she sat, pulling her knees to her chest. Damon joined her, careful to keep some space between them even though he desperately wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her until she forgave him. He laid the flowers on a nearby patio table and took a deep breath.

"Elena, I'm sorry," he started. "I screwed up last night. I had too much to drink and I made some bad decisions. I tend to do that – drink too much and make bad decisions. I just… Chester read the will and all of a sudden, I have a house and a lumber yard. I know my father well enough to know he wouldn't entrust me with the family home and the family business without a motive. Not knowing what he's up to and then figuring out Stefan knew what was in the will the whole time, it set me off and I coped the only way I know how."

Elena didn't say anything, not on purpose, but because she was trying to figure out what to say. Damon sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. He was nervous, out of his element. He couldn't recall the last time he had apologized for anything, not even bumping into someone on the sidewalk. He took another deep breath and reached for Elena's hand. She could feel the relief roll off him when she didn't pull away.

"I can't remember what I did last night," he admitted. "I know I said a lot of things to Stefan, some I meant, some I didn't. I know I took his motorcycle and ended up at your place. I don't remember much of what I did once I got there. There was coffee and wine. I kissed you. You pushed me away. The last thing I remember is looking at the stars. And apparently, I broke at least a lamp.

"I've spent most of the day in the woods, trying to remember what I did," he continued. "I can't remember though. All I can do is apologize for my behavior and hope you can forgive me for whatever I did because I assure you, I regret all of it."

Elena still didn't reply, still searching for the right words. She wanted to forgive Damon, but she also wanted him to understand why his behavior had hurt her. And most importantly, she wanted him to understand that he didn't have to turn to Johnnie Walker and Pappy Van Winkle. He had her. In her silence and unable to read her mind, he hurried along with his apology.

"Elena, I don't apologize," he said, opting to be entirely truthful. It was his only option. "I don't feel remorse for my actions. I make bad decisions, I wake up the next day, and life goes on without consequence. But today, all day, all I've wanted was to figure out what I did wrong. So I could apologize. To you. Because the thought of you being upset with me? I can't handle that, Elena. I don't want you to be mad at me. So please, accept my apology and tell me what to do to make this right."

Elena looked at their hands linked together, her small one in Damon's much bigger one. He squeezed her hand, begging her silently to say something, anything.

"I didn't like the person you were last night," she finally said. He raised his eyes to hers and her resolve nearly crumbled. Whatever demons that haunted him had dug their way out from wherever he tried to lock them up and they were trying hard to break through the surface. "You were an unruly drunk, saying things you didn't mean, putting yourself and others in harm's way. You were reckless and even mean, especially after Stefan arrived."

Damon dropped his head, hating himself even more, if that were possible. "I'm sorry," he said again, so softly Elena almost missed it.

"You were a completely different person last night," she continued. "Damon, there were other ways you could have handled everything. You could have talked to me. I would have listened, helped. You didn't need to leave a path of destruction behind you. You put your life at risk, taking Stefan's motorcycle the way you did. People care about you, Damon, whether you want them to or not. You didn't have to go off the rails just because things got hard."

"I'm not used to that," he admitted quietly, avoiding Elena's eyes.

"Not used to what?" she prompted.

"People caring."

In that moment, Elena's heart broke for him. The more time she spent with him, the more she realized he was a lot of smoke and mirrors. He did have a successful career, a life full of luxuries. But when it came to relationships, he had been dealt a poor hand. Losing his mother at such a young age had done a number on him. His struggles with his father and brother had caused him to keep them at a distance. The one person he had let himself fall in love with had left him brokenhearted. He was used to taking care of himself and turning to his vices when things got too hard. To him, he was all he had. She realized just how hard it was for him in that moment to be sitting next to her, apologizing, asking her in so many words not to leave him too. She squeezed his hand to reassure him.

"You're going to have to get used to it," she told him. "I care about you, Damon. When Stefan called me last night and said you'd had a lot to drink and had taken off on his bike, I was worried sick that something would happen to you."

"I'm sorry," Damon said yet again, squeezing her hand back. "Like I said, this whole thing with people caring… It's new. I'm not proud of how I acted last night. Towards you or Stefan. It's just… Everything is different, Elena. In the last month, my life has been turned upside down and it's a lot to take in."

"What do you mean?" Elena asked. She could hear the confusion – and even some frustration – in Damon's tone, revealing to her that he didn't like not fully understanding what was going on around him. He didn't like not being completely in control of every situation he was currently faced with. He sat back against the swing, her hand still in his as he nervously played with her fingers which were interlaced with his.

"I had a list of commandments for myself," he started. "Things like 'hate Mystic Falls,' 'trust no one.'" He paused and looked at her. "'Never stay the night.'" She blushed just enough for him to notice. "Now, things – they're different. I'm trying to work that part out and it's a lot to work through. The one thing I do know, right now, is that I hate that I've hurt you. Please, Elena, accept my apology. Or put me out of my misery. Because this is torture."

"The next time something doesn't go your way, I want you to stop and think for a minute," she told him. "Come to me. Or to Stefan because I don't believe for one minute that you dislike him as much as you try make him think you do. You don't have to turn up a bottle of bourbon, just because your feelings got hurt or something didn't go your way. You have people, Damon. You have me." Damon brushed his thumb along the back of her hand and swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. He hated how vulnerable he was yet he also found it a relief to let someone see that side of him.

"I can't promise I won't screw up again," he told her. "But I can promise to never intentionally hurt you." He watched the tension leave her body as she made the decision to fully forgive him. He felt his own shoulders loosen, air flow back into his chest. She moved, turning her body so her back was resting against his chest. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "I'm sorry," he whispered one more time for good measure.

"I forgive you," Elena told him. "You're a good man, Damon. You just need to believe that." Damon placed a light kiss on the top of her head.

"You're the good one," he told her. "I'm just happy you let me be seen with you."

"You owe Stefan an apology," she told him, scolding him lightly even as she idly rubbed a hand up and down one of his arms.

"I know," he agreed. "I'll talk to him." He wasn't looking forward to it, but he knew it needed to happen. "I'm also going to replace your lamp," he added. "And anything else I may have ruined. I'm sorry about that, too."

"Just the lamp and don't worry about it," Elena said dismissively. "Everything else survived."

"Except my dignity," he mumbled. Elena smiled, but didn't say anything in return. She noted how Damon was holding her. His arms were firmly around her, anchoring her to him like she was a lifeline. And yet, he was gentle, cradling her like she was something precious.

"So, what's next?" she asked. It was a broad question, could cover any number of topics, from what they were going to do with the remainder of the evening to where their relationship was going. She let him decide on what the answer was. He blew out a breath.

"Dad put some stipulations in the will," he told her. "For at least the next six months, the house and the mill are in my care. But I have to go back to New York. I've got clients, meetings. I guess I'm going to be back and forth for now, racking up frequent flier miles." Elena nodded, feeling a pang at the thought of him leaving, even though she'd always known he would.

"When are you leaving?" she asked. He swallowed hard, hating the answer. He hadn't done much by way of figuring out how he was going to handle everything on his plate, but he had looked far enough ahead while driving back to Mystic Falls from the greenway to know what his next step had to be.

"I need to be in Dallas on Sunday for a football game," he said. "My flight leaves Saturday afternoon and then I'm planning to fly out of Dallas to New York, spend some time in my office, get some face to face time with my employees. Google Hangouts only go so far."

"Saturday is the day after tomorrow," Elena said, realizing with a jolt just how short her time with Damon was. Damon nodded and kissed her hair again. She felt his arms tighten around her.

"It is," he confirmed. He took a deep breath to brace himself for what he was about to do. "I have to go to this charity gala next Saturday. I RSVP'd with a plus one, anticipating that I can convince you to be my date. Before my bourbon inspired trip to your lake house, of course." Even though Elena had forgiven him, he was afraid she would turn him down, call him insane for asking her to fly up the coast to attend some stuffy event he himself would rather not go to. Elena turned to look at him.

"You want me to attend a charity gala?" she asked, making sure she heard him right. "With you, in New York?"

"That's what I said," he confirmed. "Rest assured that you were not the only one surprised when I indicated I'd be bringing a date. I'm friends with the head of the foundation the gala is benefiting. He called me personally to ask if there had been a mistake, but I informed him that the most beautiful woman at the gala will be on my arm so please, Elena, don't make me a liar."

"You had me convinced you meant me until you started that most beautiful nonsense," she said. Damon shook his head and placed his fingers under her chin, tilting it upward so he could look into her eyes.

"You don't see yourself properly," he told her. "You are beautiful, Elena. Outwardly, but more so, on the inside, in all the best ways."

"You are really laying it on thick," Elena told him seriously. "It's like you pissed me off last night." Damon couldn't help but chuckle.

"You still haven't given me an answer," he said. "Come with me to the gala. Fly to New York on Thursday. We'll go out or stay in, whatever you want. I have a couple of meetings early Friday, but then I'm all yours. We'll go to the gala on Saturday and, if I can convince you, the Giants game on Sunday. You can fly back on Monday. Or whenever. I won't be in a hurry to put you on a plane."

"Sounds like you've thought this through," Elena replied.

"This is torture, isn't it?" Damon asked. "This is how you're paying me back for my behavior last night, dragging out answering whether or not you'll be my date." Elena laughed.

"I hadn't thought about it like that, but now that you said it…"

"Elena...," Damon groaned. She turned so she was fully facing him.

"I would love to be your date," she told him sincerely. "And it will be nice to spend a weekend in New York."

"Thank God," Damon said with relief. "You were killing me there for a minute." Elena laughed and reached out to push Damon's hair off his forehead. He caught her hand and kissed her palm. Then he reached past her and picked up the bouquet of flowers. "For you," he said, handing them to her with a flourish.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile, taking them this time. "They're beautiful."

"You're beautiful," he responded. He leaned in and kissed her softly. "And I'm sorry about last night."

"You can stop apologizing," she told him. She used a tone that was firm to let him know he was off the hook, yet gentle enough to keep him from recoiling. "I've forgiven you." She picked up his hand. "But I think I'll miss you when you leave." Damon pulled her back to him, turning her so her back was once more resting against his chest and he could hold her to him like he wanted to.

"I know I'll miss you," he admitted. His voice was gritty and her intuition told her he was being as honest with her as he could. His guard was largely down, but there was still the slightest of a partition separating them that she couldn't seem to break through. "But a week from today, you'll be in New York, with me. And I fully expect to commandeer most of your time tomorrow."

"Most of my time?" Elena asked coyly. "Just most of my time, when I have the entire day to waste? Benefits of being a writer who has no immediate deadlines, and all."

"Well, there's the whole talk to Stefan thing," Damon said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Otherwise, I'm yours." Elena nodded her approval and leaned into his embrace. They remained like that for several minutes, Damon rocking the swing gently.

"Damon?" Elena broke the silence. "Why did Giuseppe leaving you the house and the mill upset you so much? I could maybe understand if he'd left you out of the will, but not for leaving you the family home you grew up in." Damon sighed.

"It's hard to explain, Elena," he said. "My entire life, Giuseppe liked to point out how irresponsible he thought I was, how disappointed he was in my behavior. He was sure I would end up in jail or living on the streets. Honestly, I only graduated high school to spite him. He harped on me for not going to college, told me I was ruining my life, hopscotching all over the country, living off my trust fund. He told me time and time again that I was going to crash and burn and be left with nothing but ashes.

"You would think he would've shut up about it after he realized I had a real career that I was good at, but he still thought I was irresponsible, telling me I needed to settle down, stop taking the bachelor life to the extremes. Those were some of the last words he said to me. And then he died and left me with two of his most precious possessions. He wouldn't have done that if it weren't to teach me a lesson. The house is probably infested with cockroaches and the mill is probably in financial ruins so that's how he's going to pay me back."

"Have you seen a cockroach at your place?" Elena asked, thinking Damon was being dramatic.

"Well, no. And the mill is doing better than ever, based on the financial records I've seen. It's the principal, Elena. This is his final attempt to get me to bend to his will." Elena leaned her head back on Damon's shoulder and looked up at him.

"Has it occurred to you that maybe your father loved you and this is his way of trying to show you that?" she asked. "Leaving you, his oldest son, his legacy?" Damon shook his head.

"He didn't work like that, Elena. There's more to it." Elena let the topic drop. She agreed there was more to it. She didn't agree with Damon's perspective of what that was. She'd spent a lot of time at the Salvatore Boarding House over the years, especially in the year she'd been back in Mystic Falls along with the rest of her friends, supporting Stefan and spending time with Giuseppe whom they had all loved like a favorite uncle.

"You were in the woods earlier?" she asked, changing the topic. The woods wasn't the first place she'd look for Damon if he were to go missing so that bit of information piqued her curiosity.

"I needed to think, and I couldn't do it at the Boarding House," Damon told her. He idly ran his hand up and down her arm. "I ended up at the McIntire Greenway and wandered along the path for a while, sat on some picnic tables. Turned out to be pretty cathartic."

"That's why I run out there sometimes. It's peaceful."

"I still don't like you running out there by yourself," Damon said. Elena rolled her eyes. She'd realized quickly that Damon was protective of her. He didn't try to keep her in a bubble, but he was clearly concerned about her safety and she didn't doubt he would step in to ensure it, if need be. It was his own safety he was reckless with.

"And you're limping because?" she asked.

"Cut my foot on a piece of lamp," he confessed. "It's tiny, but it feels like I had my foot amputated MacGyver style."

"Karma," Elena quipped, drawing a chuckle from Damon.

"I'll agree to that," he said. "Where did you go this morning? Please don't say I ran you off." That was one more thing he felt guilty about – the fact that Elena hadn't been in her own home when he'd woken up on her couch.

"I spent the day speaking to English classes at the high school," Elena told him. "Apparently, they see me as a Mystic Falls success story. Sixteen year old boys are as awful as I remember, but I at least got to have lunch with Bonnie and Jeremy."

"Cafeteria food?" Damon asked.

"Yeah," Elena said, making a face. "Thank God, Jenna made lasagna tonight." There was another question Damon wanted to know the answer to.

"How did Stefan end up at your place?"

"I called him last night," Elena replied. "I couldn't get through to you and you decided you wanted to go hang out on the dock. I realized there was no way I could pull you out of the lake if you fell in and you certainly couldn't swim if your state. Like or not, Stefan cares about you too."

"I'm an ass," Damon said, more to himself than to Elena.

"You were last night," Elena told him, not cutting his behavior any slack. "But like I said, you're a good man, Damon. You just need to realize that about yourself." Damon's response was to hug Elena to him.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked. "Maybe get some frozen yogurt?" He didn't care if they sat right there on the porch for the rest of the night, so long as he was with her. His nerves were frayed and her presence helped calm him, helped him believe things would be okay.

"Okay," Elena agreed. "You're buying."

"Naturally," Damon replied. He helped Elena to her feet and then stood as well, following her inside so she could collect her things and put her flowers in water.

"Day-mun!" squealed a little voice. He grinned and turned around to find Ella in her nightgown beaming at him from the living room doorway. She ran to him, giggling even as her mother called after her that it was bed time.

"Hey, rug rat," he greeted, stooping down to her level just in time to catch her before she full on collided with him. "How's it going?"

"Me and Aunt Laney had a tea party," she told Damon seriously, her small arms around his neck.

"And Aunt Laney apparently opted not to forgo the caffeine," Jenna said, stepping into the hallway.

"Your husband made the tea," Elena replied from the opposite end of the hallway. "Blame him."

"I figured as much. Notice he's made himself scarce now that the wee one has found her second wind."

"How come I wasn't invited to this tea party?" Damon asked Ella. "Two of my favorite girls were there." Jenna and Elena exchanged a look from their respective ends of the hallway. Jenna knew her niece well and knew the exchange between Ella and Damon was melting her into a puddle. Damon was even managing to win her over, just the slightest bit, by being so good to her daughter. She couldn't deny that the man cared about her niece as well.

"Who your favorite girls?" Ella asked innocently.

"You and Aunt Laney," Damon told her. He stood, taking Ella with him. "Tell me, Ella, did your daddy attend this tea party?"

"Yep!" Ella said proudly. "Me and Aunt Laney and Daddy and my bear." Damon grinned like Christmas had come early.

"Did you take any pictures?" he asked.

"Aunt Laney did," Ella said, nodding.

"Only of Ella," Elena said. "Sorry, Damon. Whatever you were planning to do with pictures of Ric attending his daughter's tea party will have to wait."

"And so will the next tea party," Jenna said, moving forward to collect Ella. "Ella, its bedtime. I mean it. Tell Damon and Aunt Laney goodnight." Damon saw the look Ella gave her mother and knew the kid wasn't going down without a fight. He also saw a strong resemblance to Elena in that moment.

"Night night, Day-mun," Ella said. She kissed his cheek which caused the slightest bit of a blush to color his face.

"Goodnight, Ella," he said as Elena came to his side and held out her arms for Ella.

"Night, Princess Elsa," she said, hugging her niece who giggled.

"I not Elsa, Aunt Laney!" she squealed in delight.

"Are you Anna, then?"

"No! I'm Ella!" Ella said happily.

"Well, goodnight, Princess Ella," Elena said. They shared an Eskimo kiss. Damon took a few steps back, giving them space. He felt something odd whenever he watched Elena with Ella. He knew Elena would be a mother one day. She was made for it. But it was like his heart expanded and somewhere on the very edge of his mind, he started to think "what if?" whenever he saw her with the young girl.

"Come along, Princess whoever," Jenna said, taking her daughter from Elena. "You two, behave," she added, looking over her shoulder at Damon and Elena. Damon noted that Jenna's gaze lingered on him a little longer, a note of warning in them. He shifted his weight uncomfortable and turned back to Elena.

"Who are Elsa and Anna?" he asked.

"The characters from Ella's latest favorite movie," Elena answered. "You ready?"

"Almost," Damon replied. He reached for her and pulled her towards him, kissed her sweetly, making sure he kept himself in check as he knew he was still walking a thin line. He broke the kiss with a smile. "Now I am."

* * *

><p><strong>So there you have it. Damon is struggling with all the "new" in his life, but he's also taking a big chance with Elena. It's huge for him. And Elena, although not thrilled with how he behaved, still understood the root of why he did what he did - but also let him know he has other options. <strong>

**And Stefan and Damon are so much fun to write. I go back and forth on whether I like the character of Stefan on the show, but here, I'm taking my favorite sides of him and building from there. He's the little brother but sometimes, he acts like the big brother. More to come on those two.  
><strong>

**So - what'd you think?! **

**Happy Spring!**


	15. Airport

**I really do love you all. Your reviews last chapter were so kind. It was a long chapter with a lot of "stuff" and most of it was heavy. Thank you for reading all of that. It really does mean so much to anyone who writes anything in a public forum to read reviews of any kind. It's merely a bonus when they are positive. Thank you! **

**A couple questions about the story have popped up often in reviews as of late so I decided to go ahead and "answer" them. Elena's safety is mentioned often. I promise, she's safe. No one is going to jump out and grab her while she's running or break into her house. Damon is just protective, overly so. More on that in later chapters. As for that letter... It WILL come into play at some point. And that's all I'll say about that. :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>He had always hated hospitals. He had been successful in largely avoiding them over the years, a slight miracle given some of his extracurricular activities that could have turned out worse for the wear. He rarely got sick and when he did, he tended to nurse himself back to health by cowering in his bed and drinking cough syrup straight from the bottle. His mother had died in a hospital and at six years old, just as he'd associated her death with Stefan's birth, he had associated hospitals as the place people went to die. He knew good things happened in them – lives were saved, diseases were cured – but he still would prefer to be anywhere else. Especially today.<p>

Standing in the entrance of the emergency room, he looked around for a reception desk. It seemed quiet, the waiting room mostly empty, save for a person here and there, waiting for news on family members as they flipped through old magazines or watched daytime television. He spied the reception desk and walked purposefully toward it. He had long ago learned that if he could fake confidence, he usually managed to trick himself into feeling confident and right now, he was anything but sure of himself.

"Can I help you?" the reception asked. Damon ignored how she looked him up and down, eyeing him like he was a piece of meat. He had seen her reaction from enough women – middle-aged or otherwise – that it didn't faze him.

"I'm looking for my brother," he said smoothly. "Stefan Salvatore. He's an emergency medicine resident." He could tell by the light that flickered in the woman's eyes that she knew exactly who he was referring to – and that he wasn't the only Salvatore she had ogled.

"Dr. Salvatore," she said with a nod. "I'll page him. You just hang out right here, darling." Damon nodded with a tight smile and chose to step away from the desk, waiting as far from both the receptionist and the patients in the waiting room as he could. Nearly a quarter of an hour passed before Stefan appeared through a set of double doors, wearing navy scrubs, a stethoscope draped around his neck and his ID badge swinging from his chest pocket which was stuffed with a miniature notebook, several pens and an assortment of folded up papers with patient notes scribbled on them.

"Damon," he said, making his way over to his brother with a critical eye. "Everything okay?"

"I can't stop by little brother's place of business to say hello?" Damon replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You can't," Stefan said in a matter-of-fact tone. Damon looked him over with a critical eye.

"You look like hell," he stated, noting the dark circles under Stefan's eyes.

"Let's see how those pretty blue eyes and tailored suits of yours look after a 48 hour shift with another 18 hours to go," Stefan retorted. Damon cringed internally, remembering that Stefan had to cover for someone who had in turn covered for him so he could get his drunken older brother home safely.

"For the record, I'm not wearing a suit," Damon told him, indicating his black jeans and black t-shirt combo.

"Yeah, what happened to the suits, anyway?" Stefan asked. "The first week you were here, you came down for breakfast fully dressed in business attire, just to sit around in the media room with your laptop all day. Now you're all jeans, t-shirts and leather jackets."

"The fashion faux pas of Mystic Falls must have rubbed off on me," Damon said dismissively. Stefan shook his head, deciding he'd had enough of the small talk and banter.

"What do you want, Damon?" Damon rubbed the back of his neck. Stefan knew that tell. Damon was nervous, a rare thing for his older brother who was typically overly confident and downright cocky.

"Got a minute to talk?" he asked. Stefan looked over his shoulder at the largely empty waiting room. He'd just come from the pediatric emergency room which fortunately told a similar story.

"I've got a patient I need to check on," he said, turning back to Damon. "Give me ten minutes?" Damon nodded.

"Go take someone's blood pressure or whatever it is you do," he said. Stefan refrained from rolling his eyes.

"I'll meet you in the cafeteria," he told Damon. "Make yourself useful and get me a coffee while you wait."

"I guess that's the least I can do," Damon said, making the first acknowledgement of the elephant standing between them.

"Guess so," Stefan agreed. They brothers parted ways, Stefan holding his badge up to a censor and disappearing back through the double doors, Damon following the signs to the cafeteria.

He had managed to arrive during the sweet spot, Damon realized, as he breezed into the cafeteria. Breakfast was over and the turnover for lunch by the cafeteria workers was underway, but the lunchtime crowd was still an hour or so away from descending. He found the coffee cart quickly, ordered two of the biggest coffees they offered, and picked up a snack for himself. He found a table and sat down to wait, replying to emails to pass the time. Ten minutes passed and then twenty. A half hour later, Stefan arrived.

"Sorry," he apologized, falling into the chair across from Damon. "I got hung up with a patient's family."

"You can't blame me if your coffee is cold," Damon said, pushing an insulated cup towards Stefan.

"I assure you, it doesn't matter." He took a long drink from the mug, not bothering with sugar or cream. "Just right," he said.

"Shame you can't throw back whiskey like that," Damon commented. "You might be more fun."

"Because you made chugging whiskey – or bourbon or scotch or whatever the hell you were drinking – look appealing the other night," Stefan retorted. "Especially with that hangover yesterday morning."

"Touché," Damon replied. Stefan took another long drink from his coffee before he sat it down and fixed his eyes on his brother.

"So?"

"So what?"

"So why did you show up at the hospital, have me paged, and ask if I could leave my patients for a few minutes to talk?" Stefan asked. Damon sighed.

"I owe you an apology," he started. "I said some stuff I didn't mean."

"And some stuff you did mean," Stefan said knowingly.

"And some stuff I did mean," Damon admitted. "But I was out of line. I'm sorry." He waited for Stefan to respond, needing his reaction in order to figure out what to say next. Several moments passed which included Stefan drinking his coffee and exchanging a polite hello with another doctor before he said anything to Damon.

"What stuff did you mean?" he asked. "Because I've got to say, Damon, you could've fooled me. You sounded like you meant every word." Damon played with the empty wrapper of the granola bar he had eaten while waiting for Stefan. This wasn't exactly the conversation he wanted to have, but there wasn't much use in continuing to avoid it.

"I know it wasn't your fault that Mom died," he said, looking anywhere but at Stefan. Stefan raised his eyebrows in disbelief. After a lifetime of believing his brother blamed him for their mother's death, he was sure he had heard Damon wrong. "I was a kid, Stefan. I didn't understand. I did the math and the math told me you were there and Mom wasn't. It was just easier to keep blaming you as I got older than it was to admit that I was wrong and that there was nothing anyone could do to save Mom. I needed someone to blame and unfortunately, that person was you."

"You've hated me our entire life," Stefan stated. Damon heard the carefully covered up pain in Stefan's voice. He knew it well. It was the same pain he worked around the clock to keep tucked away deep in his chest. He finally met his little brother's eyes.

"I don't hate you," he said. He swallowed hard. "You're my brother."

A heavy silence fell over their table. They had only exchanged a handful of sentences, but it was the most honest conversation they had ever had.

"You're still pissed about Dad," Stefan finally said. Damon nodded.

"I am," he said, leaving it at that. He could understand that Stefan wasn't at fault for their mother's death. He couldn't quite get himself to a place where he was willing to fully let go of the fact that Stefan had been their father's favorite for the last twenty six years, had gotten all of Giuseppe's love, made him proud. He couldn't let go of that yet, if ever.

"You really should read the letter Dad left for you," Stefan said. "I think it will explain a lot."

"Why bother?" Damon asked with a shrug. "You seem to be in on his plan. Why don't you tell me yourself?" Stefan shook his head.

"I don't know what he put in your letter," he said truthfully. "All I knew was that he intended to leave you the Boarding House and the mill. He said he would explain everything to you and made me promise I wouldn't tell you what was in the will."

"The man is dead. You could have sung like a canary and he would have never known."

"I gave him my word, Damon," Stefan said quietly. "He was dying. I couldn't refuse him."

"Even so," Damon replied, leaving it at that. He wasn't sure what else to say.

"You know, I was pretty surprised to see you here," he said. "I didn't exactly expect an apology."

"Yeah, well, this is my second apology in less than twenty-four hours," Damon said, letting his own wonder at the fact show. "It seems I'm turning over a new leaf."

"Elena?" Stefan guessed. Damon nodded.

"She gave me a pretty decent piece of her mind, but she forgave me. I'm on thin ice for a while though."

"She was always going to forgive you," Stefan told him knowingly. "She sees the good in everyone. It's her nature to forgive when someone deserves it."

"I'll test that nature," Damon mumbled. Stefan heard him, but chose not to pursue that topic any further, given that he agreed with the fact that if anyone could test Elena's ability to forgive and forget, it would be his brother. He glanced at his watch and realized he really needed to get back to the ER. But since he had Damon's attention and it appeared Damon was speaking relatively freely, he decided to ask a pressing question.

"So, what's next?" he asked. "With the house, the mill, your job, New York? How is all that going to work?"

"I'm trying to figure that out," Damon told him. He had more questions than answers right now and for now, that would have to be okay. "I guess I'll be back and forth for a while. I'm actually flying out tomorrow. Going to Dallas for a game and then to New York. I need to make an appearance at my office, meet with people face to face. I've done a decent job of keeping up with things, but I can't keep working from the media room. I'm planning on having my accountant go over the mill records, help me get an idea of where things stand. I'll figure out what to do next from there."

"And Elena?" Stefan pressed. "I'm surprised you aren't with her now if you're leaving tomorrow." Damon blew out another breath.

"She's meeting me at the house later," he said, not adding that he didn't plan on letting her leave his side again until he was forced to board his plane. It had taken more willpower than he'd known he'd possessed to turn his car towards Charlottesville and Stefan and away from where Elena was likely having coffee in her pajamas at Jenna and Ric's. "She's going to come to New York next weekend, go to an event with me."

"She's going to visit you in New York?" Stefan repeated, hoping he'd heard Damon correctly. It had been a month or so since Elena had come into Damon's life, but Stefan could already see the difference she was making in him.

"Yeah," Damon confirmed. He finished off his own coffee. "I'm going to try this whole relationship thing with her." He saw the surprise register on Stefan's face and could hardly blame him. He was still surprised at his decision himself. "Just, keep that to yourself for now. I haven't actually talked to Elena yet. I'd planned to, but then I sort of had to apologize and hope she would still speak to me instead. I'm going to talk to her about us while she's in New York. I just want to make sure we're okay after the other night first."

"I'm happy for you," Stefan told Damon, genuinely meaning it. "She's good for you. And she cares about you. You could do worse."

"I have done worse," Damon quipped, drawing a grin out of Stefan. The moment was interrupted by the chirping of Stefan's pager. He picked it up and read the message.

"I've got to go," he said, already standing. "Got an ambulance three minutes out. I guess I'll see you when I see you." Damon stood as well, realizing this was likely going to be the last time he saw his brother before his flight tomorrow.

"I'll be back in a couple weeks," he said. He offered Stefan his hand and the two brothers shook. "Go save someone's life." Stefan grinned and winked at him, even as he started towards the exit.

"You go get Elena," he said over his shoulder. And with that, he turned and disappeared, leaving Damon to take yet another deep breath before heading for the door himself.

* * *

><p>Elena lay awake, her head on Damon's chest as he slept. Both of his arms were around her, holding her firmly to his side. She gazed at him, taking in his relaxed features. She liked watching him sleep, she decided. It was the one time he was completely peaceful, the tension he seemed to always carry with him gone. He was beautiful, strong. He was also haunted by things that had happened in his past, by his mother and Katherine, she guessed. But he was still a good man.<p>

Something had changed between them. She wasn't sure what it was, but she could feel it. Damon had been almost clingy since he'd shown up at Jenna and Ric's with a bouquet of flowers and an apology. He had tended to touch her frequently ever since their first date, small gestures like brushing her hair away from her face or holding her hand while he drove. But since their talk on the porch swing, he had been within an arm's length of her almost exclusively. His had kept his hand on the small of her back as they walked along the sidewalk to and from the frozen yogurt shop. He had leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple while she'd chosen her toppings. He had held her hand throughout the evening and when he walked her to the door, he had held her tightly for a long time. She'd felt his reluctance to let her go, even as she promised to see him the next day. She hadn't entirely wanted to let him go either.

She had shown up at the Boarding House at almost the exact moment Damon had returned from the hospital. They had spent the afternoon on the couch, alternating between making out and finally watching _Fight Club. _They had ventured to the grocery store, bought ingredients to make their own pizza and spent the evening in the kitchen, cooking together, laughing, talking. And then, with the last plate loaded into the dishwasher, Damon had abandoned his gentlemanly behavior and pinned her against the counter before taking her up the stairs and having his way with her.

Now, she was watching him sleep and pretending tomorrow wasn't growing closer with every tick of the clock. She didn't want him to go. She had admitted that to herself. She had gone on their first date knowing he was leaving, but somehow, he had managed to get under her skin. He had crept up on her and she had fallen for him. She wasn't sure what, exactly, she felt for him, just that she liked him in a way that was different from how she liked Stefan, Tyler and Matt. She liked him _more. _

It was a good sign, she thought, that he wanted her to come to New York. His life was there and he was extending an invitation to her to be a part of it, at least for a weekend. She didn't know what that meant, but she was going to go and she was going to see what happened. A weekend in New York, with Damon on his own territory, would give her some insight into who he was outside of the man she had gotten to know in Mystic Falls. It would either fill in parts to the puzzle she was missing or leave her with even more questions, but it would tell her more about Damon nonetheless.

There was a conversation they would have to have at some point. They would have to put a definition on what they were or weren't and decide what would happen next. And there was the fact that she knew about Katherine. He hadn't so much as casually mentioned a high school girlfriend, even when she had told him a story about a disastrous night with a college boyfriend that involved a fire alarm, sprinklers and standing on the street in next to nothing while the fire department cleared the building. She told herself she hadn't mentioned Katherine yet because she was waiting for Damon to tell her himself, but she knew in reality, it was more that she didn't know how to bring it up.

"Lena?" Damon mumbled groggily, his eyes still closed.

"I'm here," Elena said quietly. She leaned up and kissed his cheek which seemed to soothe away whatever dream had woken him as he sighed and settled back down.

"Stay," he whispered. Elena smiled softly and turned her head slightly to place a kiss on his bare chest.

"I'm here," she said again. She closed her own eyes as her cheek went back to its place on his shoulder. She felt him place a gentle kiss the top of her head and tighten his arms around her even more before falling asleep.

* * *

><p>Of all the ways he had pictured his return to New York, standing in an airport with his arms around a girl he didn't want to leave wasn't one of them. He had thought he would practically be skipping to the gate when he could finally escape Mystic Falls, maybe even buying a round of champagne for the whole plane to celebrate. Instead, he was fighting the urge to abandon his responsibilities, throw Elena over his shoulder, and head back to the Boarding House.<p>

"You sure you have everything?" Elena asked, prolonging the inevitable.

"Well, you haven't climbed in my suitcase yet," Damon told her. "You're tiny. You could probably fit."

"Next to all of your hair products and Italian dress shoes? I don't think so."

"I'd be willing to sacrifice a pair of loafers or two," he said, gently rubbing circles on her back with his thumbs. "And I can always buy more hair products."

"Don't you have to change planes in Atlanta?" Elena asked. "What if your luggage got lost with me in it?"

"I would have to sue someone," Damon said seriously. "Right after I tracked down my bags, of course. There are a few shirts in there I really like." Elena shoved at his chest playfully, drawing a laugh from him. He released her from his embrace, only to take her hands in his. He raised them both to his lips and kissed them.

"I'll see you on Thursday?" he asked.

"For the third time since this morning, yes," Elena told him with a smile. "I will be landing at La Guardia around four and fully expect you to be there, waiting on me."

"3:35," Damon corrected. "And I will be there, even if I have to drive to Queens."

"I like Queens," Elena said. "It's diverse."

"It's not Manhattan," Damon retorted. "But even Manhattan will get a little brighter once you grace it with your presence."

"You're laying it on thick again," Elena observed. "Any reason for that?"

"Just want to make sure you remember me," Damon said. He leaned down and kissed her, something he had done several times since they checked his bags for his flight to Dallas.

"Because last night wasn't memorable enough."

"It was quite memorable," Damon agreed. He glanced at the monitor. "I need to get going," he said, more to himself than Elena.

"You do," Elena said, even as she tightened her hold on Damon's hands. Damon sighed and relinquished himself to the fact that he needed to board a plane.

"Come here," he said, pulling her to him. She knew this was it as she wrapped her arms around him and held her tight. He closed his eyes and breathed in her vanilla and lavender scent, memorizing it. "I'll call you when I land in Dallas."

"Okay," Elena said. She pulled away just enough so she could see Damon. "Travel safe." Damon smiled down at her and shook his head He found he often marveled at the fact that Elena worried about him, no matter how unwarranted it was. He hadn't had someone worry about him in years. It had also been a long time since he'd had someone to worry about.

"You be safe," he countered. "No running on the greenway by yourself. You would do well to keep your doors locked too."

"Whatever you say," Elena said with a smirk. Damon shook his head again, knowing his worries were falling on deaf ears. She sighed. "You still need to get through security," she reminded him. She glanced over her shoulder where there was no wait at the security check point, a perk of flying from a small airport.

"I do," he confirmed. He lifted her hands to his lips again and just looked at her for several long moments, his blue eyes on her brown ones. Then he blew out a breath. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Soon," Elena echoed. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "And I'll see you Thursday."

"Thursday," Damon repeated. He tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. He swallowed hard and leaned down to kiss her goodbye.

He had intended to remain under control, remember that he was in a public place and that there were children present. But the moment his lips landed on Elena's, he felt all the fire and all the passion that flowed between them and pulled her so close that every inch of her body was pressed against his. She kissed him back with just as much fervor, pulling at his jacket to hold him to her. When they broke away, it was only to breathe.

"Remember that," Damon told her, his forehead resting against hers.

"It's going to be hard to forget," Elena replied breathlessly.

"That was my intention," Damon smirked. "And I fully plan on picking up from where we left off when I pick you up at La Guardia. Remember that too." Elena chuckled.

"I will," she promised. The last call for a flight bound for Nashville sounded and she remembered where they were. "You should go."

"I should."

"But you're still standing here."

"I am," Damon agreed. He kissed her one more time before gently extricating himself from her arms. She was mere inches away, but it already felt like miles. "Okay. To Dallas I go."

"Win the game," Elena said, trying to crack a joke even as she felt tears prickling at the back of her eyes. Damon chuckled.

"That's sll on my client," he said. "All I need to do is make sure he doesn't say anything stupid when the _Dallas Morning News _interviews him pre-game tomorrow." His client didn't play for Dallas, but his charity work and high profile relationship were getting him more press than Damon cared to deal with. But if he was getting a reputable publication to interview him instead of made up stories in gossip rags, Damon was going to be there to make sure it was flawless.

"Well, good luck," Elena said. She was smiling, but Damon could see that she was faking it for his benefit. He reached down and picked up his backpack from the floor filled with his electronics and a book for the plane. He slung it on his back and then grasped the handle of his wheeler bag.

"See you in Queens," he said, his eyes back on Elena.

"Where you've promised to continue that kiss," she said. Damon nodded and gave her his most dazzling smile.

"Bye, Lena," he said softly.

"See you soon, Damon," she replied. He grinned and nodded.

"I like that better," he said. "See you soon." He took a few steps towards the security gate but stopped and pivoted on his heels. His lips were crashing down on Elena's one more time before she had registered he had turned around. "Remember that one too," he said as he pulled away.

"You do the same."

"I will," he promised.

He turned again and this time, he made himself continue towards the security gate. He looked over his shoulder though and saw Elena still standing there, watching him as he walked away. He gave her another smile and nodded at her once. She replied with a small wave and a smile, even as her eyes glistened with unshed tears he'd be willing to bet his car she didn't want him to see. With a heavy sigh and his heart fully with Elena, he turned back to the gate attendant and pulled out his ticket and ID.

* * *

><p><strong>I hated sending Damon back to New York, but we all saw it coming. Time for a little change of scenery, I guess. :) <strong>

**I've always been jealous of how guys can scrape out a 'sorry, dude' and be best friends again within five minutes. If the Salvatore brothers were sisters, they would have never been so cordial in that hospital cafeteria. Of course, they really just manage to rub some dirt on the wound and move on without really addressing the issue. **

**So what'd you think? I've been fighting a pretty nasty cold all week so I'd love to read your opinions between doses of cold meds! **


	16. Enzo

**It's rather late at the time I'm posting this and after a super busy weekend that involved early mornings, I'm a bit delirious so please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors - I'm not using a beta and did a final edit with one eye shut. :) **

**I loved your reactions to the last chapter! Sending Damon off to NYC was unfortunate, but I too loved their airport moment. I think there are likely a few more airport scenes ahead. ;) THANK YOU for continuing to read and review! I can't believe I'm closing in on 300 reviews for this! **

**This chapter is one of those "filler" kind of deals except it's not _really _a filler since it has a lot of details that are small, but contribute to the overall story. I hope you enjoy it! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>"That Damon?" Caroline asked as Elena returned to the room with her phone in her hand and a small, wistful smile on her face.<p>

"Yeah," Elena confirmed as she sat down on the couch. "He finally made it to Dallas, hours behind schedule. He said the flight was horrible and it's storming like crazy. And he's apparently really excited about eating at some place called Whataburger."

"Oh, jealous!" Caroline replied enthusiastically. "I had Whataburger when Tyler and I went to Destin on vacation a couple years ago. There were like 7,000 calories in my burger, but it was amazing."

"Good, Damon is clogging his arteries," Elena replied. She reached for her glass of wine and propped her feet up next to Caroline's on the coffee table.

"It's worth it," Caroline promised. "And have you seen Damon's body? One Whataburger meal isn't going to hurt him in the least." Then she remembered who she was talking to. "What am I saying? Of course you've seen Damon's body. All of it, from what I understand."

"And here we go," Elena said under her breath.

"Yes, here we go!" Caroline said as she turned to face Elena, bringing her legs underneath her and assuming what Elena liked to call her gossip position, her eyes sparkling. "You slept with him! Several times!"

"Not several," Elena said. "Like…A few."

"Did you do it more than once last night?" Caroline asked.

"Caroline!"

"Elena, come on!" she urged. "It's me, your best friend since we were toddlers in the sandbox. You can give me the details. Especially since I invited you over for a sleepover so I could cheer you up after you sent your boyfriend off to the big city."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"You want him to be."

"Maybe I do," Elena admitted. "But that's on him."

"He wants you too," Caroline said with confidence. "I can tell."

"No one can tell anything about Damon," Elena replied with a shake of his head. "He's a mystery, even to his own brother, and especially to me."

"I don't think Damon is as complicated as everyone thinks," Caroline mused. She leaned forward and reached for the bowl of popcorn she had popped earlier. She had poured a bag of M&Ms in it for good measure, ensuring the proper mix of salty and sweet. "I think he's one of those guys who got hurt early in life, didn't mature emotionally, and therefore doesn't do a very good job of letting people get close to him." Elena looked at her friend for a long moment.

"You are incredibly observant," she finally stated.

"I know people think I'm a dumb blonde that is obsessed with planning my wedding and throwing parties," Caroline replied, digging her hand into the bowl again. "And I am obsessed with planning my wedding and throwing parties. I've been planning my wedding since I was five and throwing parties pays my bills. I know people write me off as the dumb blonde. That should probably piss me off and sometimes, it does. But because people tend to see the blonde hair and the big boobs and not the brain I happen to also possess, I can sit and observe and see things for what they really are. And when I look at Damon, I see a guy who is incredibly guarded but who, for whatever reason, has decided that you get to know the real him."

"I don't think you're a dumb blonde," Elena told him. Caroline smiled at her.

"I know you don't," she said. "Which means you believe me when I say Damon likes you." Elena reached for the popcorn.

"It's just so complicated," she admitted. "I like him, Caroline. I didn't intend to. I actually couldn't stand him when I first met him. He was so crude at his father's funeral and you should have heard him on the phone that day he sat down with me – uninvited, might I add – at the coffee shop, demanding whoever was on the phone give him his way and telling me with this cocky attitude that he always gets what he wants.

"But then he walked me home from The Grill that night and we argued about _Faulkner. _He took me on a date and he talked about things like my book and all of our favorite places in New York. He was so sweet to me the night of the carnival when the storms rolled in and he showed up at Jenna's door practically at the crack of dawn after his trip to New York, just because he wanted to see me. He had his less than attractive moment the other night with the drinking and the showing up at my place. But he apologized and he meant it.

"He didn't want to leave today. I could feel it. He kept delaying, kept finding a reason to kiss me one more time or to ask me if I'm coming to New York on Thursday one more time." She paused to take another handful of popcorn. "I cried when I got in my car, Care. I actually freaking cried. I'm not sure how I managed to make it to my car, because my eyes started filling with tears at the same moment he walked through the security line."

Caroline studied her friend for a long moment. "So is that your way of saying you know Damon likes you?" she asked finally. Elena grinned.

"I guess," she admitted. "But like I said, it's complicated. He lives in New York. I live here. My life is here and his in New York. And the Damon that I know here isn't the same Damon that lives in New York. I've heard him on the phone, barking orders and making demands. I can only imagine what he's like at the negotiating table. He loves New York. He loves that big city, fast paced life. I love it here, sitting by the lake on a clear day, reading a book, writing another chapter. I don't know how we reconcile that."

"Well, you start with having the big 'relationship' discussion," Caroline advised. "And once you figure out if the two of you are going to do the relationship thing, you figure the rest of it out as it comes." Elena sighed and fell back against the couch.

"I really want to do the relationship thing with im," she confessed. "And that is probably the worst decision I will ever make."

"Or the best one," Caroline said, joining Elena in leaning back against the couch. She placed the popcorn ball between them. "You two would make some beautiful babies."

"Caroline!"

"You would!" Caroline insisted. "He's all dark and handsome. You're all lithe and beautiful. With that gene pool, your kids would be flawless." Elena couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face.

"You should see him with Ella," she said, knowing there were things she could tell Caroline that she wouldn't dare tell anyone else, especially Damon. "He's good with her. He's entirely uncomfortable with her and absolutely awkward, but he's still so good with her. She loves him."

"Name your first kid after me?" Caroline asked.

"What is it with you blondes?" Elena countered. "You're naming my kids after you, Rebekah has appointed herself as a bridesmaid in me and Damon's wedding. And Damon and I aren't even an official couple."

"If Rebekah gets to be a bridesmaid, I get to be the maid of honor," Caroline stated with indignation. "I've known you way longer. And! I get to plan the wedding."

"Can Damon and I figure out if we're a couple first?" Elena asked, somewhat exasperated by Caroline.

"Well, yeah. Figure that out first. And then we can get to the good stuff." Elena rolled her eyes and decided to change the topic.

"Did you and Tyler ever agree on a centerpiece?" she asked.

"Sort of. We narrowed it down to two. I was hoping to choose one and move on to the favors, but then Tyler…," Caroline trailed off. She reached for her glass of wine. "What do you want to watch? Chick flick, horror movie or educational documentary?" Elena looked at her friend with a critical eye, catching on quickly that something was up, and shook her head.

"Oh no," she said. "No. You just birthed my imaginary kids with Damon who isn't even my boyfriend. You don't get to run right up to something about Tyler and then change the subject. What did Tyler do?"

"Nothing," Caroline said innocently. "He didn't do anything."

"Caroline…" The blonde sighed.

"You can't tell anyone," she said, turning to Elena. "Like, anyone."

"You know your secrets are always safe with me, Caroline. Didn't we just go over how I could tell you anything? Same goes for you."

"I know," Caroline said with a nod. She swirled the wine in her glass and took a deep breath. "Okay. Here it goes. Tyler got a job offer." Elena's eyes widened.

"That's great!" she said. "I didn't know he was looking."

"He wasn't," Caroline said. "He was approached by another law firm. They were impressed with his work. It's been less than a year since he passed the bar exam, but he's been really successful. It's a great opportunity with a great firm and he'd have the chance to be partner in a few years."

"Why do I hear a 'but' coming?" Elena asked suspiciously. Caroline sighed.

"The firm is in Richmond."

Silence fell between the two as Elena processed what Caroline had just said. Caroline stewed, the fact that she had finally been able to tell someone what she had been fretting over since the previous evening not doing anything to help in the way she thought it would.

"Is he going to take it?" Elena finally asked.

"I don't know," Caroline admitted. "He wants to. He really, really wants to. He hasn't told me that outright, but I can tell. He was all glow-y and excited when he talked about it. It's the perfect job for him. It's just in Richmond."

"Richmond isn't that far away," Elena said carefully. "It's an hour and a half, tops."

"But it's not Mystic Falls," Caroline argued. "I would have to leave everything and everyone and I would never see you."

"Caroline, it's Richmond," Elena said again. "I live almost an hour outside of Mystic Falls and I see you all the time…"

"The lake is west of Mystic Falls!" Caroline interrupted, doing the math in her head. "And Richmond is east of here! I'd be like, two and a half hours from you, Elena!"

"We spent four years on opposite coasts," Elena reminded her. "And several more with you here in Virginia and me in New York. We're still best friends. You being in Richmond isn't going to change that. Besides, think of how much better the shopping is down there."

"I know it isn't far away," Caroline admitted. "But it's _Richmond_. I always thought we would grow old here. Our kids would go to the same schools we did and grow up with your kids and Bonnie and Jeremy's kids. Hopefully Stefan's too if that stupid hospital has the good sense to hire him as an attending in a few years. If I move to Richmond, that's not going to happen."

"Have you talked to Tyler about all of this?" Elena asked.

"Sort of. He knows me well enough to know how hard moving would be. I just… Don't want to go. But I don't want him to give up this chance either."

"It's my turn to dole out the advice," Elena said. "Caroline, talk to Tyler. Really talk to him. Tell him how you feel. But also think about how he feels. This is a huge opportunity for him and the two of you are going to be married come spring. And also, remember that it's Richmond, not Southern California." Caroline smiled and nodded her understanding.

"I love you, Elena," she said. Elena returned her smile.

"I love you too, Care."

"Chick flick, horror movie or educational documentary?"

"Chick flick," Elena decided. "You pick." Caroline picked up a remote and scrolled through the titles on Netflix, settling on one they had seen a half dozen times.

"Bonnie is missing out," Caroline said, going for the popcorn once more. "How could going a date with your husband trump spending the night with your best friends?"

"Promise me something?" Elena asked in return.

"Anything."

"Promise me that when you and Tyler get married, we'll still have girl nights?" Caroline scoffed.

"Duh," she said, linking arms with Elena and resting her head on Elena's shoulder. "Who else would I talk about boys and watch Channing Tatum movies with?"

* * *

><p>"My invitation to this pity party must have gotten lost in the mail," Damon drawled, sidling up to the bar. "Nothing for me," he told the bartender who was already approaching him.<p>

"How'd you find me?" Enzo asked, nursing a mixed drink that Damon suspected was more whiskey and less mixer.

"You're not very smart," Damon countered, sitting down next to his client. "You have had one concussion too many, breaking tackles and scoring touchdowns. Otherwise, you wouldn't check yourself out of rehab and go to the same bar you always go to when you're trying to drown your problems in a bottle."

"Let me guess, you're here to drag me back to that godforsaken place you call an inpatient treatment facility, whether I want to go or not?" Enzo turned up his drink to punctuate his point.

"I'm here to escort you back to that inpatient treatment facility when you decide you're ready to go back to that inpatient treatment facility," Damon replied. "Because we both know you want to get your shit together."

"Do I?" Enzo countered. "How do you know I don't to say screw it all and drink myself into an early grave? Maybe take a few recreational drugs to speed up the process?"

"You love football," Damon told him. "It's what you do and you do it well. Besides that, you have a family that loves you and supports you. You have a girlfriend who adores you. You have the opportunity to be a success story, Enzo. You have the chance to beat your demons and be an inspiration to someone else that thinks they can't overcome addiction and lead the life they dream about when they're coming down from a high. You have that chance, if you don't drink yourself into that early grave first."

"You're one to talk about demons," Enzo shot back. "We both know you have a whole chorus line of them. You coming down on me for drinking and drugs and partying a little too much? Doesn't quite carry the same weight when you turn to the bottle yourself."

"I have my own demons," Damon admitted. "I don't always deal with them in the best way. Some of those demons reared their ugly heads lately and I did some things I'm not proud of. I had to suck up my pride and admit that I was wrong. I had to do some groveling. I do have my demons. You're right about that. But none of them have landed me in rehab or kept me from doing my job."

"I hate it in there," Enzo admitted. "All they want to do is talk about why. Why alcohol? Why did this thing make me feel this way? Why do I keep falling back into old patterns? If I knew, don't you think I'd stop doing it?"

"Old habits are hard to break," Damon replied. He took out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and passed it to Enzo. He took it and looked at the screen which was filled with a beautiful woman, laughing as she sat in an Adirondack chair with her legs tucked under her, a lake filling the background.

"Who's this?" he asked.

"That's Elena," Damon answered. "You interrupted me having dinner with her to tell me you were going back to rehab. I had to leave her and fly up here the next day to deal with your ass. And instead of talking to her right now to tell her goodnight, I'm sitting in a bar with sticky floors and generic liquor, waiting for you to decide to go back to rehab and get your life together, once and for all."

"She your girlfriend?" Enzo asked, passing Damon the phone back and ignoring his rehab comment.

"I hope so," Damon told him. "You love your girlfriend, right? Amanda, I think her name is?" Enzo nodded.

"Amanda," he confirmed. "I love her more than my own life. She's everything to me."

"Then how do you live with yourself, putting her through all of this time and time again?" Damon asked. "I got drunk and showed my ass last week when some of those demons came back to haunt me. I hurt Elena and it nearly killed me, seeing the disappointment in her eyes. She forgave me after I groveled, but I still haven't quite forgiven myself. So how do you put Amanda through that time and time again? And a better question, why does she stay? Because Elena made it clear to me under no uncertain terms that she wasn't going to stick around if I continued to behave like that."

Enzo took a long hard look at Damon. The man had been his agent for the last three years and had stuck by him through thick and thin, even when he didn't deserve it. In the early days, right after he had signed with Damon, they had hit the town together often, drinking and partying into the wee hours of the morning, acting more like buddies and less like agent and athlete. Damon had stepped back from that life though, once he met Katherine, while he himself had just kept going deeper and deeper into a world of drugs and booze that he could never quite escape from, no matter how hard he tried.

When Katherine had cheated on Damon, he had thought he had his old drinking buddy back. And at first, he had. But then, Damon had remembered their professional relationship and made it his own personal cause to help him, get him into rehab and cleaned up, even when Damon himself spent his nights drinking alone, picking up women and living a life of debauchery. While Damon had tried to help him, Enzo had in turn hoped Damon didn't end up like him. It was an endless circle of them trying to prop each other up, send the other in the right direction when they themselves were drowning.

But now, Damon was talking about an Elena. Enzo knew without knowing much at all about her that the girl was special. She was different. While Damon had cleaned up his act with Katherine, he had still lived hard, made questionable decisions and let the consequences fall where they may. But here Damon was now, sitting beside him and asking him, point blank, how he could continue to hurt the love of his life and risk losing her, because he himself couldn't handle seeing the hurt and disappointment in Elena's eyes, even just the once. Of all the things Damon had told him over the years in an effort to get him to straighten up and get his life together, that was the first thing that had actually hit home. He couldn't lose Amanda and while she had stuck by him, he knew their relationship was currently held together by the barest of threads. He couldn't lose her. Nothing, especially a temporary high, was worth that.

"Do me a favor?" he asked, taking out his wallet and throwing down a fifty to cover his drinks. "Call Elena on our way back to the rehab facility and let her know I'm sorry for keeping you from saying goodnight." Damon nodded and clapped Enzo's shoulder.

"Come on," he said. "I'll get us a cab."

* * *

><p>Damon fell across his bed, not bothering to remove his dress shirt which he had untucked as he rode the elevator to his apartment or his suit pants which he had long ago decided were nowhere near as comfortable as his jeans. He let out a groan as he kicked off one shoe then the other, each landing on the floor with a thud. He halfheartedly attempted to remove his socks, but it required too much energy, so he didn't.<p>

He was the kind of tired he felt down in his very bones. He had forgotten how hectic of a routine he kept in New York. In Mystic Falls, he had woken up at his leisure, a time that had gotten progressively earlier as each day had passed, his noon wakeup times turning into by seven most mornings, eight when he slept late. He would have a cup of coffee, scrounge up something for breakfast, and then spend the rest of the day working from the media room couch, the coffee shop, The Grill, Elena's, wherever he happened to be. And when he was done for the day, he could spend the remainder of the evening doing whatever he wanted.

In New York, he was up early, usually before the sun, even earlier if he wanted to go for a run first. He was in his office by eight unless he had scheduled a breakfast meeting. Once there, he liked to start the day with a briefing with his handful of employees before retreating to his desk to take calls, return emails. There was almost always a lunch meeting, usually other meetings and conference calls throughout the day. He had dinner plans with clients or contacts he wanted to schmooze for an endorsement deal or media coverage almost every night. He usually got wrangled into drinks and before he knew it, it was midnight.

He wondered how he had kept up with that schedule before and still been able to engage in long nights of whiskey and women. All he wanted to do right then was sleep and it was just a few minutes past ten, an early night by all accounts. His phone rang out and he groped for it. He didn't bother to check the screen before answering.

"'Lo?"

"Hi," came Elena's soft voice. Damon was instantly more alert.

"'Lena, hey," he said. He pushed himself upright and moved so he was resting against his headboard, his pillows providing a nice cushion.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, noting his tired tone.

"No. Although if you would have called five minutes later, you may have."

"If you want to get to sleep…"

"No," Damon said, cutting her off. "I haven't talked to you all day."

"Technically, you emailed me earlier," she reminded him.

"That doesn't count. That was electronic and impersonal. This is better. Still not great, but better."

"You sound exhausted," Elena said.

"I am," Damon admitted. "Been a long, long day."

"You said that yesterday," Elena reminded him. "You sure you're up for me later this week?"

"You are the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel," Damon told her. "I've cleared my schedule for Thursday afternoon. I have a few meetings Friday, but I'm all yours for the rest of the weekend after three o'clock."

"That works out," Elena replied. "I'm going to go shopping for a dress to wear on Saturday. I've decided I hate everything I own." Damon smiled.

"You could wear a burlap sack and look beautiful, Elena."

"Will you be wearing a tux?" Elena asked. She had looked up the gala she would be attending with Damon and couldn't stop the excitement that was starting to bubble. She had attended formal affairs before, but almost never with a date. She was looking forward to it, almost as much as she was looking forward to seeing Damon again.

"Unfortunately," he answered. "Do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Make sure your dress is easily removed. I don't intend to leave it on you for very long." He could practically see Elena's blush through the phone. He smirked to himself. Even exhausted, he still had it in him.

"It's a classy affair," she reminded him. "I will dress accordingly."

"Lady on the street…"

"Do not finish that sentence," Elena warned, making Damon laugh.

"The sentiment is the same, no matter whether I finish my sentence or not." He drew a laugh out of Elena which made him smile. Without knowing it, she was taking away all of his stress from the day, just by calling him to say goodnight.

"I saw Peter today," Elena said, changing the subject. "I was doing some research for the next article I'm writing for the _Mystic Falls Times _and I ended up at the Salvatore mill."

"Place still standing?" Damon asked. It was his to run, at least for now, but he hadn't taken the time to so much as visit following the reading of his father's will. He had gotten drunk, spent the next day trying to remember what he'd done and apologizing to Elena and the day after that, he had tended to a few urgent work emails, apologized to Stefan and spent the rest of the day with Elena. He'd had his father's accountant send him the financial records and he had tried to look at them, intended to get them to his own accountant, but he hadn't had much time as he attempted to dig himself out of the hole he had fallen into by more or less not working over his last few days in Mystic Falls.

"It is in upright and working order," Elena confirmed. "Although Peter did ask about you. It appears you impressed him when you visited a couple weeks ago."

"He's a decent guy," Damon agreed. A thought struck him and he groaned.

"Dammit," he muttered.

"What?" Elena acquired. Damon sighed.

"I'm supposed to sign off on payroll for the mill before midnight tonight. I forgot all about it." He was already dragging himself out of bed, hoping he would be able to find the document detailing how to log into the payroll system and make approvals in the next hour and a half.

"Damon, are you okay?" Elena asked.

It was Tuesday. Each time she had spoken to him, it seemed he was a little more stressed out, would a little tighter. Saturday he had travel issues and then Sunday, he had overseen his client's interview and attended the subsequent football game before catching a redeye back to New York. Elena was pretty sure he had never gone to sleep, or at least not slept more than a couple of hours, before he was up and running on Monday. He had spent much of the day in meetings, playing catch up when he had a moment. Then he had dealt with Enzo before pouring in late, sending her a goodnight text after an earlier phone call from the cab with Enzo. She knew from the email she had woken up to that morning – time stamped before 7AM – that he had gotten little sleep before waking up to do it all over again.

"I'm fine," he said. He located the briefcase he had dropped just inside his front door, sat down on his couch, and opened it. He pulled out a mess of papers, silently cursing himself for letting it get so disorganized. He was nothing if not anal retentive and the mess in his briefcase did nothing but shoot his anxiety up another few points. "Just playing catch up."

"I should let you go…"

"No!" Damon said quickly. "I'm sorry," he added, apologizing. "I'm just wound a litter tighter than usual, trying to get caught up and back into the swing of things. But the good news is, you'll be here in less than 48 hours and I know a few excellent stress relievers."

"Do you?" Elena asked innocently.

"I do," Damon confirmed. He found the paper he was looking for and then went to work turning on his laptop. "Don't bother packing any underwear. You won't need it." He heard Elena gasp on the other end. "In fact," he continued, "don't bother with clothes at all. I assure you, they are not necessary."

"So we're going to this gala in the buff?"

"We could skip it," Damon said, only half kidding. He typed in his password to log into his computer system. "Just stay at my place, in my bed. On the couch. The kitchen counter. I'm really not picky."

"Sorry, but you promised me the chance to get all dressed up and see you in a tux," Elena told him. "And that's what you're going to deliver." Damon chuckled.

"What the lady wants, the lady gets," he said. "Especially in bed…"

"Damon!" he laughed again, proud of himself for making her squirm on her end of the phone. He opened an internet browser and typed in the website he needed to access the payroll portal. "Anything in particular you want to see or do while you're here? Besides me?" He could practically hear Elena rolling her eyes.

"I wouldn't hate a trip to that sushi place I love," she told him.

"Sushi night it is," he said. He stifled a yawn, even as he read the login instructions to the portal. He typed everything in accordingly and waited, checking the clock. He had just under an hour to sign off, assuring everyone was paid appropriately and on time.

"Anything you need me to bring you from Mystic Falls?" Elena asked.

"Yes," he confirmed. "You." Damon frowned as the screw filled up with columns of names and numbers, sick time and vacation days. There was a place for retirement contributions and insurance deductions, not to mention taxes.

"My ticket has already been purchased," Elena told him. "All I need to do now is pack."

"You don't need to pack," Damon reminded her, clicking through tabs and columns on the screen as he tried to make sense of what was in front of him. "We're not wearing clothes, remember?"

"Trust me, you want me to pack a few of the things I have in mind," Elena teased. Damon hardly registered her flirtatious comment as he realized the task before him wasn't going to be as simple as checking a few boxes and clicking submit. "Damon?" Elena prompted when he didn't respond.

"What? Sorry," he said, shaking his head a bit. He sighed. "This payroll system is more complex than I thought," he told her. "As much as I'd love to work on convincing you to be naked with me the whole time you're here, I need to figure out how to pay these people in the next hour so they don't quit on me after they check their bank accounts tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Elena said. "Call me tomorrow if you get a chance?"

"I'll call you even if I don't have a chance," Damon replied. "I still have to convince you to go to the gala naked.

"Good luck with that," Elena quipped. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"Sleep?" Damon asked. "Isn't that like coffee for people with too much free time?"

"Ha ha," Elena replied. She stifled a yawn of her own. "Goodnight, Damon."

"Night, angel," he said. On her end, Elena smiled. "Sweet dreams."

When the call ended, Damon let out another long sigh and sat back on the couch, taking his laptop with him as he started to make sense of what was happening on the screen. A guilty feeling tugged at his heartstrings, having everything to do with not being able to talk to Elena like he'd hoped. He also got the feeling there was something he had forgotten to tell her.

* * *

><p><strong>Caroline is so fun to write, mainly because I don't think of her as the "dumb blonde" her character can sometimes be shown as on the show. I like to think of her as a smart chick who knows how to take advantage of situations when necessary. And Enzo... He's not going to be a significant character around here, but he will appear from time to time and always with a purpose. It's not just Elena Damon is protective over... <strong>

**And speaking of Damon... Poor guy. He's some kind of tired. This whole burning the candle at both ends thing is rough. **

**Let me know what you think, please! **


	17. Sushi

**WHEW! It's been a ridiculous week in real life and I never could find enough time to post an update midweek like I like to and so, I'm posing an _extra _long one full of New York goodness! I hope you enjoy! **

**Thank you all for reviewing. I'd say we're about 2/3s of the way through and you continue to amaze me with your responses. Thank you a 1,000 times over! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Nerves, coupled with excitement, coursed through Elena as she de-planed. She couldn't wait to see Damon, to spend some time in New York and attend a big, fancy event as his date. But she was also hyper aware of the fact that she was spending time with him on his turf. She was anxious to see Damon in his element, see how it deferred from the man she'd come to know in Mystic Falls.<p>

She dug her phone out of her bag and turned it on as she walked, her roller bag trailing behind her. She glanced at the signs directing her towards baggage claim while her screen filled with notifications as the phone came to life. There was a scandalous text from Rebekah and a couple from Stefan, one telling her to have a good trip, the other asking her to tell Damon to give him a call when he got a chance. Just as she was texting Jeremy to let him know she arrived safely, a text from Damon filled her screen.

"_I know your plane has landed. Hurry up and get out here. I'm waiting." _Elena smiled and tapped out a reply.

"_New York makes you less patient." _It was less than a minute before her phone chimed again as she rode down the escalator to where her luggage was due to arrive.

"_I'm in Queens and you're mere feet away from me. Screw patience." _Elena laughed and dropped her phone back in her bag. She stepped off the escalator, already looking for Damon. Her eyes fell on him almost at once, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He was wearing a sharp suit that was tailored to his body in a way that made her think impure thoughts in the middle of baggage claim as he scanned the sea of people flooding the area. The smile that broke across her face was so big it hurt as she made her way to him. She was still several yards away when he finally saw her.

"Elena," he said, breaking into a smile. He started towards her dodging around an older woman who was standing in place, looking confused. He was in front of her in moments.

"Damon," she said, her eyes locking with his. She remembered just then how much she had missed those blue eyes in the handful of days since she'd last seen them.

"Come here," Damon ordered, already reaching for her. She let go of the handle of her roller bag and her oversized purse swung wildly from her shoulder as she took the final step to close the space between them, her arms wrapping around his neck tightly. Damon's own arms wound around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He took a moment to just breathe her in, his nose buried in her hair, closing his eyes as he allowed himself to feel all the things he was feeling without giving them any label. Then he pulled away, but only enough to look at Elena.

"Now where were we?" he asked. Elena had just enough time to register the devilish look on his face before his lips were on hers, picking up where their searing kiss at the Charlottesville airport had left off, just as he had promised he would.

"Right about there," Elena breathed when he finally broke away. A woman with two small children passed, giving them a dirty look as she went.

"Someone's not happy at home," Damon quipped, looking after her.

"Damon!" Elena chided, slapping him lightly on the chest.

"Easy, princess," Damon said, taking her hand in his. "There's plenty of time for whips and chains."

"Remind me why I came?" Elena asked, feigning annoyance. Damon lifted her hand and grazed his lips across the back of it.

"To wear a pretty dress, make all my friends jealous and have some of the best sex of your life," he answered.

"I thought I was here to have some great sushi," Elena said thoughtfully.

"You can eat all the sushi you want," Damon replied, pulling her to him again. "If you can leave my bed long enough to place an order." Elena rolled her eyes, earning another chuckle and a quick kiss from Damon. "No worries, beautiful. I promise to let you out on the town a time or two while you're here. I want to show you off. But first, let's get your luggage. They're gauging me on parking."

Elena led the way to the correct baggage carousel and spied her bag almost right away as it was one of the only ones left on the belt. She pointed it out to Damon who retrieved it, asking if she packed everything she owned, based on the size and weight of the suitcase. Even with her heavy suitcase, he placed his free hand on her lower back and steered her through the crowd. It seemed his need to touch her extended to New York. Once outside, he stopped and wrangled her roller bag from her, stacking the bag and her suitcase precariously so they could navigate the parking garage. They reached an upper deck and Damon started towards a sleek black Mercedes coupe. Elena let out a whistle.

"That's a bit of a change from your Camaro," she said. Damon took his keys out of his pocket and pushed a button to open the trunk.

"It's a little more Big Apple appropriate then my Chevy," he said as he lifted Elena's bags into the trunk. "Do me a favor? Don't mention this thing to Stefan. I gave him a hard time about having a foreign car. No need for him to know I've got this little piece of German engineering."

"Your secret is safe with me," Elena said with amusement. "Speaking of Stefan, I'm supposed to tell you to call him."

"I will one of these days," Damon responded dismissively. His hands found Elena's hips and he backed her up against the side of his car. "I'm more concerned with seeing you right now."

"Good," Elena told him. She placed a hand on his cheek. "Because I'm way more fun that Stefan." With that, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, teasing him with a promise of what would come later.

"Let's go home," Damon muttered against her lips. He kissed her one more time, then opened her door for her, ushering her inside the car's leather cabin. He folded himself into the driver's seat and reached for Elena's hand before cranking up the car.

It took the better part of an hour to make their way to Damon's Manhattan apartment, the rush hour traffic thick. Normally, Damon would have lost his patience fifteen minutes in. But with Elena to keep him company, he found he didn't mind the stop and go, listening with a grin as she kept up a running commentary, filling him in on her week and interrupting herself when she recognized a landmark that brought back some memory from her college days. He hadn't been able to talk to her nearly as much as he wanted to over the week and this, listening to her chatter aimlessly, made him feel more relaxed than he had since he'd sat down in his seat on the first leg of his flight to Dallas.

In the heart of Manhattan, Damon turned off the busy street into a parking garage, each slot filled with BMWs, Porches, Mercedes, Aston Martins. He smoothly turned into his assigned spot, between a Bentley and a BMW SUV. "Stay put," he directed Elena. He got out of the car and hurried around to open Elena's door.

"Thank you," she said as she slipped out of the car. Damon's answer was to give her a smile and then pop his trunk, removing her bags. She didn't bother arguing with him when he insisted he carry them. She bit her lip to keep from smirking. For all of his big city swagger, he had the ability to be a complete gentleman when he wanted to be. Elena couldn't help but think his mother would have been proud.

"This way," he said, suddenly nervous as he led Elena into the elevator. The last woman he had in his apartment had been Katherine almost a full year ago and she hadn't been welcomed. She had shown up a few days after he moved out of the apartment they had shared, asking him to take her back as though it were a business transaction and not a relationship. He had thrown her out and vowed to never let another woman invade his space – or his heart. But he was breaking all the rules with Elena.

"I like the suit," Elena told him as the elevator doors closed. "It screams 'I'm a big, bad sports agent."" Damon smirked at her.

"That's the point," he said. He glanced at the floor ticker and saw they still had a number of floors to go. He took the opportunity to snake an arm around Elena and pull her to him. "Don't think I haven't noticed how low those jeans are sitting on your hips," he said in a husky voice.

"Are they?" Elena asked, feigning innocence. She had been going for comfort when choosing an outfit for travel, but she did know the jeans she had selected, while old and worn, melded to her form perfectly. Damon let out what she could only describe as a muffled growl.

"You know exactly what you're doing," he accused.

"Yes," Elena confirmed. "I do." She reached for his tie and used it as the leverage she needed to pull him down to her, letting out a moan of her own as he tongue slipped past her lips. Too soon for either of them, a bell chimed and the door slid open, indicating they had reached Damon's floor. Elena let go of his tie with a smirk and stepped out into the hallway.

"Follow me," he said, leading her down the hall. When he stopped in front of his door, unlocked it and pushed it open. "Ladies first," he said, beckoning Elena ahead of him. She could sense his growing anxiety and gave him a smile to reassure him.

The apartment was a stark contrast from the Salvatore Boarding House. While the home Damon had grown up in was grand and ornate and practically dripping with family heirlooms and priceless antiques, his sprawling apartment was minimalistic, at best. With dark hardwood floors, the décor was a palette of stark whites, blacks and grays. Large floor-to-ceiling windows lined most of one wall and she knew the view of the city would be spectacular from them.

A big, black leather couch was the focal point of the living room. It was bookended by acrylic end tables, each holding a sole industrial-looking stainless steel lamp. An acrylic coffee table stood on a plush white rug and was littered with a few sports and men's health magazines as well as a remote. Two leather armchairs flanked the sofa, angled towards the coffee table to create a community feel should they ever be occupied, although Elena got the distinct impression they were rarely used. A massive flat screen was mounted on the wall across from the couch and below it, a sleek stainless steel shelving unit housed a number of electronics and DVD cases+.

The wall opposite the door was lined with a floor to ceiling black bookshelf. Most of the shelves were full of books, but some held other knickknacks like autographed footballs and championship plaques. It reminded Elena of an office display rather than a living room. She wandered towards the small, open kitchen as Damon brought in Elena's bags. He left them by the door and stood nearby, watching her as she took in his place.

Like the living room, the kitchen was all black and stainless steel, with top of the line appliances that looked like were rarely used. Barstools that served more as décor than seating lined one side of the kitchen island. She was almost relieved to find Damon's bar cart. It was well-stocked with quality liquor and an assortment of glasses. It was the one thing in the apartment so far that actually looked like Damon. Even a small four person table, tucked to the side of the kitchen, was acrylic. A single black, square bowl with fake oranges sat in the middle, providing an almost out of place pop of color.

The space was, Elena realized, completely null and void of any personal artifacts. The walls were largely sparse, what little artwork that adorned them abstract and lacking color. The place was a complete 180 from not only the Salvatore Boarding House but her own home at the lake. It didn't reflect Damon. Even so, she turned to him with a smile as she approached the windows.

"This is quite the view," she observed. Amidst the towering apartment and office buildings outside of Damon's window, she could make out a number of New York landmarks from his window, including a view of the Hudson River.

"It just got a whole lot better," Damon quipped, coming to join her. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of his shirt. "I was thinking we could stay in tonight, relax, maybe watch a movie…" His hands were already on her. They both knew a snowball in hell stood a better chance than the two of them did at making it through a whole movie without ripping each other's clothes off.

"I think that sounds perfect," she said. She reached up and pushed his suit jacket from his shoulders, deciding it was time for him to get comfortable, look more like the Damon she knew. He helped her with removing the jacket and then dropped it over a kitchen chair.

"Good," Damon said. He undid the cuffs of his dress shirt and pushed them up, already feeling the tension from the week melting away. "I even went grocery shopping." Elena raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Fine. I had groceries delivered this morning," he admitted. "But the sentiment was the same. I'll cook dinner for us."

"And I'll help," Elena replied. She found Damon wasn't the only one unable to keep his hands to himself as she slid her arms around his waist.

"Oh no you won't," Damon informed her. "Your only job is to sit and be pretty."

"We'll see," Elena relented. Damon dropped his lips to land on her forehead.

"Come on. Let me show you the bedroom."

He gently extracted himself from her embrace, retrieved her bags, and led her into his bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was minimalistic. His king-sized bed took up a large portion of the room and was made up entirely of black and grey linens, the same white rugs from the living room covering the floor. His dresser and nightstands were black with steel handles. The room also had a series of floor to ceiling windows, these tinted to avoid anyone from seeing inside. Aside from his cologne and a set of cufflinks littering the top of a dresser, the bedroom was also largely impersonal.

"Someone's a neat freak," Elena teased. She had realized that about Damon early on. His car was spotless, his room at the Salvatore Boarding House neat and tidy. While she was content to let the dishes soak for a while, he was always insistent on cleaning up immediately after dinner and she had never known a man to pay attention to whether the stove was wiped down or how the dishes were placed into the dishwasher. At first, she had thought it was because he was trying to impress her, but realized quickly that "OCD" and "Damon" went hand and hand.

"I'm not here enough to make a mess of things," Damon said with a shrug. He had always liked order. It was something he could control in a life where he had learned at a very early age that little was within his control. He'd admittedly taken it up a notch, making sure his place was in order for Elena's arrival. She turned and studied him for a moment. There was still an air of nervousness about him.

"You seem anxious," she stated, taking a couple steps towards him. He briefly looked away before turning his eyes back to her looking almost guilty. It scared him that she seemed to know him so well. Most everything Elena made him feel scared him. She had no idea how hard he had to fight to keep his fears at bay.

"I'm just glad you're here," he admitted. "It's been a long week."

"I could tell," Elena said. "You seemed pretty stressed out on the phone." Damon sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"By the time I got back here from Dallas, I was essentially five days behind, between the reading of the will, my subsequent behavior and then my trip. Throw in trying to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to run a sawmill and a client who would rather not stay in rehab and stressed out pretty much covers it." He moved so he was resting against the pillows and motioned for Elena to join him as he kicked off his dress shoes. She removed her own shoes and climbed in beside him. He wrapped an arm around her as her head settled onto his shoulder, an arm draping over his torso.

"Anything I can do to help?" Elena asked. Damon smiled even as he rested his head against hers and closed his eyes.

"This," he said. "Just do this." Elena smiled.

"What about this?" she asked, just before leaning up and giving him a kiss. "Or this?" She kissed him again, this time a bit more passionately. "Or there's this." She moved so she was straddling him before taking his face in her hands and kissing him long and hard and deep. She could feel the effect she was having on him as his hands started to slid up her thighs.

"I think this might help," he said before his lips went to her throat, finding a place he knew Elena liked. He was rewarded by a satisfied moan as his name fell from her lips. He had intended to show her the bedroom and bathroom, change into something more comfortable and start dinner. Instead, he found both of their clothes coming off, dinner a distant thought.

* * *

><p>Elena sat at Damon's kitchen counter, frowning as she wiggled on the industrial stool in an effort to get comfortable. The couch was slightly more inviting, but she had chosen the counter top to set up her laptop and spread out her papers, aiming to get a bit of work done before Damon returned from his meetings.<p>

She had been in New York for less than 24 hours, but she already remembered why she both loved and hated it. They had spent her first evening largely in bed, making up for the five days they had been apart. Damon had visibly morphed from his New York suit and tie to the man she had gotten to know in Mystic Falls. His hair, which had been combed into submission, returned to its usual messy state and his wardrobe – when he finally put clothes back on to cook dinner – turned more casual, sweats and a white t-shirt taking over. Even his posture was more relaxed and his smile came easier as the night went on.

True to his word, he had cooked dinner, Elena's only job to sit and keep him company. His culinary skills continued to surprise her, this time resulting in a glazed chicken breast with a side of rice and steamed carrots. For dessert, he had produced a carton of ice cream and cupcakes bought from a bakery down the street. They had attempted to settle in and watch TV, but unable to keep their hands off one another, they had ended up right back in Damon's bedroom.

He had left early that morning, looking devilish in another dark suit although this time, Elena noted, he hadn't bothered with styling his hair. He had woken her from her slumber just long enough to kiss her goodbye and promise to see her that afternoon. She had slept a couple more hours before getting up and showering before hitting the streets to find a dress for the gala the next night. Mission accomplished and Caroline approved, she had returned to Damon's apartment, using the key he had left on the counter for her, and was now waiting for his return.

She frowned as she scrolled through the latest round of Google search results, still not satisfied with what the search engine was presenting her. She bit her lip, concentrating on the screen in front of her. She was typing in another phrase when she heard the doorknob rattling. A moment later, Damon appeared. His face lit up in a grin when his eyes landed on her.

"I like coming home to find a hot woman in my kitchen," he declared. Elena smirked at him.

"I happen to not hate having a hot man interrupt my work," she retorted as Damon made his way towards her.

"We do make a hot couple," he agreed. He leaned down and kissed her. "Hi."

"Hi," she replied with a smile. "You done for the day?"

"I'm all yours," Damon confirmed. He reached up and loosened his tie with swift fingers, then shed his suit jacket as he took in the papers spread across the counter. "What's all this?" He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.

"Caroline," Elena answered. Damon frowned.

"Surely she let you use a couple of vacation days from planning her wedding."

"This isn't wedding-related," she told him. "She's overwhelmed with planning the town's Halloween festival, the community Thanksgiving dinner and the Christmas celebration. Not to mention she also has a few parties and weddings for other clients on top of her own wedding. I somehow agreed to take on the fundraising aspect of the Halloween festival. They want to do something different this year and I'm coming up empty."

"Silent auction?" Damon asked. He opened his fridge and pulled out a soda. He offered Elena one and her answer was to nod.

"Silent auctions go hand and hand with the Founder's Day event in the spring," she told him, taking her soda from him. "Most eligible bachelor auction – also a spring event. It needs to be something family friendly and any food-related event is ruled out since there are so many food vendors booked. I'm pretty close to setting up a dunking booth or a kissing booth and calling it a day."

"No kissing booths," Damon said as he undid his cuffs and pushed up his sleeves. "No one kisses you but me. Dunking booth… Lame. Unless you can talk Stefan into taking a turn, in which case, I'll be your first and best customer." Elena rolled her eyes as Damon busied himself with scrolling through his phone.

"I thought about a pageant of some sort. Nothing like Miss Mystic Falls but maybe a Miss Halloween kind of thing." Damon grinned, finding what he was looking for on his phone. He sat it down on the counter and leaned against the granite surface so he was facing Elena, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What if I told you I had an excellent idea for a way you could not only raise money for whatever cause Mystic Falls is championing this week, but also blow any idea Caroline might have had before and probably in the future right out of the water?" Elena eyed him.

"I'm listening."

"Do you know who Harper James is?" Elena nodded.

"He's that football player on the Redskins, right? Jeremy goes on and on about him."

"That would be him," Damon confirmed. "And given Mystic Falls' proximity to Washington D.C., what team do the locals tend to cheer for?"

"The Redskins," Elena replied, starting to get an idea as to where Damon was heading.

"It just so happens that Harper is one of my clients. And I just confirmed that he has a bye week and as of right now, nothing scheduled. I could call him up, see if he would be willing to make an appearance, sign some autographs, take a few photos. I'll get him to sign a few things to auction off. I'm sure we can wrangle a couple of game tickets to throw in the mix, maybe put together some sort of weekend getaway package." Elena looked at him.

"If you could make that happen, Caroline just might drop Tyler and marry you instead," she said seriously. She didn't follow football closely, but she knew Harper James was a big deal, just like the Redskins were, to the residents of Mystic Falls. Damon chuckled.

"Harper owes me a few favors. I can definitely make it happen," he said. "As for Caroline, she's all Lockwood's." He picked up his phone, unlocked it and tapped the screen a few times. A few moments later, he tapped the speaker button and sat it back down on the counter, waiting for Harper to pick up.

"What are you doing?" Elena asked as the sound of ringing filled the air.

"Calling Harper," Damon replied. There was a clattering sound and then a deep voice came over the speaker.

"What up, bro?" Elena made a face at the greeting. Damon grinned and winked at her.

"You know, just making money," he answered.

"As much of mine as your sorry ass takes you ought to be rolling in it." Damon chuckled.

"Careful, James. I'll be negotiating a new contract with the Skins for you in a few months. You'll want to play nice." Elena looked on, amused at the ribbing between the two.

"I want a better parking space at the training facility," Harper said. He was serious.

"The GM will give you the damn moon to keep you from going free agent and you ask for a better parking space," Damon said. "We can get you your own personal driver to and from practice if parking is your biggest concern."

"Was there something you wanted or did you just call to harass me? I didn't appreciate it when you did it a couple nights ago out of boredom and I won't appreciate it now. I've got a pizza on the way."

"Just a pizza?" Damon asked. "I'm sure you've got some hot wings on the way too, maybe some cheesy bread. Probably a gallon of soda to go with that six pack in the fridge."

"I don't know why I pay you."

"Because you love me," Damon quipped. "And I actually did call to do something besides harass you this time. I need a favor."

"Lay it on me, hoss," Harper replied.

"Hoss?" Elena mouthed. Damon grinned and nodded.

"That bye week the weekend before Halloween? You have anything planned I don't know about?"

"You know when I go to the bathroom. Do you think I have anything planned you don't know about?" Harper shot back.

"Just making sure you haven't managed to get yourself a girlfriend in the last two days. You were going on about some press secretary assistant you met at a bar."

"Dude, she had the crazy eyes. I stopped that before it started." Damon rolled his eyes and Elena stifled a laugh.

"Like I said, I need a favor," he said. "My hometown, Mystic Falls, has this big Halloween festival the weekend before Halloween every year and they're looking to raise money for…" Damon realized he didn't know exactly what he was volunteering Harper for. Elena passed him the notebook she had been taking notes in. "…the area food pantry to help them meet demand with the upcoming holiday season."

"I'm listening," Harper said, his tone now serious. Elena picked up on his change in demeanor. Damon knew he had him. Hunger was something Harper had experienced firsthand and devoted a significant amount of his time to efforts to eradicate it.

"My girl is planning the fundraising aspect…"

"Wait a minute!" Harper interrupted, just as Elena's eyes widened. "Your girl? Since when does your commitment phobe self have a girl?" Damon looked at Elena who looked surprised even as she tried to cover it up. He smiled.

"She's sitting right here and you're on speaker," he told Harper. "Elena, meet Harper. Harper, Elena."

"Hi, Harper," Elena said feeling awkward at being brought into the conversation.

"Elena," Harper drawled. She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Oh, Elena. I can't wait to meet you. If you've got my boy Damon calling you his girl, you must be a force of nature. That fool can barely dress himself in the morning and he done gone and got him a girlfriend."

"Bastard," Damon muttered, making Elena laugh, even though she wasn't sure if she was actually Damon's girlfriend.

"You tell me what you need, Elena, and I'll be there with bells on."

"She needs you to…," Damon started, but Elena cut him off.

"If you have time," she said, giving Damon a pointed look, "we – myself and my friend Caroline – would really appreciate it if you could take some time out of your schedule to appear at our Halloween festival. Damon was saying something about signing autographs and maybe taking some photos? It would be great if that's something you would be willing to do."

"Oh, she's nice," Harper said. "I like her, Damon. You're all rude and demanding and here she is, being sweet. Elena, of course I'll make an appearance. Not in the least because I want to shake your hand in person. Any girl that can put up with Damon needs a reward."

"Stop being a dick," Damon cut in.

"Stop being a caveman," Harper shot back. "I'm in. Elena, just have your boy get me the details and I'll be there."

"Thank you so much," Elena said, beaming.

"Thanks, Harper," Damon added, his tone turning more serious. "I appreciate it."

"Come on, Hoss. You know I'd do anything for your stupid self."

"All the insults," Damon said with a shake of his head.

"I use them with love," Harper retorted. Damon ended the call and turned to Elena.

"Problem solved," he said with an air of self-satisfaction.

"You are my favorite person," Elena told him seriously, her eyes sparkling. "Caroline is going to freak out."

"Let's go back to the part where I wasn't already your favorite person," Damon said. He moved so Elena was pinned between him and the counter, his hands resting on the counter on either side of her.

"Didn't I already tell you you needed to grow pigtails and start wearing monogrammed smock dresses if you wanted to be my favorite person?" Elena asked, referring to one of their earliest conversation.

"Ella can be your favorite person under five," Damon snorted. "I want the title of favorite person, period."

"Fine," Elena relented. "Right now, that title is yours." They shared a brief kiss. "How long have you been working with Harper?" she asked once they broke apart. She turned back to her computer to finish sending a few emails. "You seem close."

"About two years," Damon answered. He perched on the stool next to her, content to just watch her work for a while. "He's a good kid. Life dealt him a pretty pathetic hand, but his grandmother and football kept him out of trouble. Or at least out of serious trouble. He didn't get drafted out of college, but I took a chance on him, got him picked up as a walk on by the Redskins." Elena smiled at Damon.

"What made you take a chance on him?" she asked curiously. She had the impression that Damon only went after the best of the best and a guy that had been passed over in the multiple rounds of an NFL draft didn't quite fit that bill.

"I don't really know," Damon admitted. "I saw him play a few times. He loved it, you know? You could just see it in him. Football means something to him."

"Where did he play in college?"

"Alabama. The best of the best. He didn't get many touches until his senior year, but it was enough to be impressive, help the team win a National Championship."

"And what's with the hoss thing?" Elena continued. Damon grinned.

"He grew up in Louisiana. I guess it's just street language he picked up. He's called me that as long as I've known him."

"Along with a few other choice nicknames I'm going to have to remember for a future use."

"That's just Harper," Damon said with a shake of his head. He reached out and tucked a stray chunk of hair behind Elena's ear. "Why don't we go out tonight, have dinner at that sushi place you've been going on about?"

"I'd like that," Elena said with a smile as she shut her computer and turned her full attention to Damon.

"And then afterwards, if you're up for it, maybe we can meet up with a couple friends of mine for drinks?" Elena's smile widened at the thought of Damon introducing her to his friends.

"Sushi and drinks. Sounds like a date." Damon grinned, looking relieved. Elena couldn't help but wonder why he always seemed so nervous whenever he asked her to do something with him. It was as though he expected rejection at every turn.

"It is," he confirmed. "Be ready in about an hour?" Elena glanced at the clock.

"I think I can do that."

* * *

><p>It had taken Elena an hour and a half to shower and dress. Damon had waited patiently, his clothes changed and a splash of cologne dabbed on while Elena was in the shower. He had propped his feet up on his coffee table to watch Sports Center and had begun to think Elena would never be ready when she appeared, wearing a simple green dress that was made of a fabric that clung to her curves. She had dressed it up with accessories and her nude-colored wedges only served to make her long legs look even longer. In dark wash jeans and a button down, his felt under dressed next to her, even though they were going to a more casual restaurant.<p>

He opted to hail them a cab rather than drive his Benz, and he'd had to give the cab driver a death stare when he caught him openly staring at Elena in the rearview mirror. He had put a possessive hand on her thigh, sending a message, however different it may have been, to both Elena and the cab driver that she was his. Elena responded by placing her own hand over his and giving it an affectionate squeeze that made him want to direct the cab driver to turn around and take them back to his place.

He wasn't much on sushi. It was raw fish, at best. He had learned to tolerate it as sushi seemed to be a number of his business contacts' meal of choice, but he would take a steak over a tuna roll any day. And it seemed Elena loved it, which was all the more reason for him to sit down to a meal without complaint.

She was charming as she browsed the menu and he let her take charge of ordering. He held her hand across the table and was content to be second fiddle, listening to her go on about her day and the dress she bought. She wanted to know all about his morning and he gladly told her, reveling in the fact that he had someone to talk to about those things. And when their dinner arrived, she teased him about his poor use of chopsticks before showing him how to use them correctly.

When he had been thinking about inviting Elena to New York, he had had visions of extravagant nights out on the town, showing her the best, most elaborate time he could offer. But in the days following her agreeing to join him for the gala, he had a change of heart. He didn't care what they did or where they went, so long as she was with him. She settled something in his very soul, just by being by his side.

They opted to skip dessert and Damon paid the bill, eager to move on to the next part of his night. Outside, he took her hand in one of his while hailing them a cab with the other. Another benefit of being with Elena, he realized, was just how quickly one of the yellow cars pulled up to the curb.

"Who are we going to meet?" Elena asked once they were tucked comfortably in the backseat.

"My friend Rose and her boyfriend Trevor," Damon answered. "Trevor is an agent too. He's not as good as me, but who is?" Elena rolled her eyes, drawing a chuckle out of Damon. "I think you'll like Rose. She shoots straight from the hip, doesn't let anyone screw her over. She's a no nonsense kind of girl, but she puts up with Trevor, which blows her cover right out of the water."

"How did you meet her?" Elena asked. Damon grinned.

"I hit on her at a bar," he admitted. "She told me to go to hell. We've been friends ever since."

"So that's the key – turn you down and next thing you know, you're friends. Or going on dinner dates." Damon looked at Elena.

"You might be on to something, Gilbert," he said. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. "Except I think you got a far better deal out of turning me down than Rose did. You managed to get me in bed."

"Is everything about sex with you?" Elena asked. Damon shook his head and wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer, realizing he had made a lot of suggestive comments since Elena's arrival. While he rather enjoyed their physical relationship, she was more than that.

"Not with you," he said in a soft voice. He kissed her hair affectionately and felt her melt into his side. She gave him a smile. They fell into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the drive to the nightclub near Damon's apartment.

Nerves overtook Damon as he joined Elena on the sidewalk outside the nightclub. Rose had already made a big deal over the fact that Damon was bringing Elena to the gala and she had nearly lost it when he texted her earlier to see if she and Trevor wanted to meet up. For his part, Trevor had sent him texts throughout the day, teasing him about turning in his player card in favor of settling for just one girl.

"You ready for this?" Damon asked as he took her hand.

"Should I be nervous?" Elena replied.

"Rose can be a bit much," Damon said. He leaned down and placed another kiss on Elena's temple. "She's looking forward to meeting you. I haven't exactly brought a girl around in while." Elena gave him a reassuring smile.

"Buy me a drink?" she asked, starting towards the entrance. Damon nodded once and dropped her hand, only to place a hand on the small of her back to guide her through the entry. He paused, looking for Rose and Trevor. Rose must have had her eyes peeled for their arrival, as she started waving furiously from a corner booth almost as soon as they walked in.

"Over here," Damon muttered to Elena, keeping his hand on her. Elena wore a nervous smile as they made their way over. Trevor, wearing a suit, was as good looking as Elena had expected him to be. Thanks to Damon, she was sure all sports agents were suave and deadly handsome. Rose, however, was nothing like the blonde haired, blue-eyed model she'd dreamed up in her mind. She had an olive complexion and her dark hair was cut into a sharp, chic bob, a streak of blue strategically placed. She wore a simple black dress and a bright smile.

"Well, well, well," Trevor said, smirking as the couple approached. "The rumors are true."

"Don't be a jackass," Rose shot at her boyfriend before turning back to Damon and Elena.

"I'd listen to her," Damon drawled. "Your jackass behavior is anything but becoming."

"How I missed that wit," Trevor retorted although he was grinning. Damon pulled Elena closer to his side.

"Elena, this is my friend Rose and her boyfriend, Trevor," Damon said, formally introducing them to Elena. "Rose, Trevor, this is my girlfriend, Elena."

Elena was certain her heart skipped a few beats as the word "girlfriend" fell from Damon's lips. He appeared completely at ease, as though calling her his girlfriend was the most natural thing in the world. She didn't hate how it sounded, but it took her off guard. They hadn't labeled their relationship, hadn't instituted any rules or discussed the fact that they lived in two different states, led two very different lives. She would have to bring it up later, but instead of letting on that the word surprised her, she smiled politely.

"Hi," she greeted, offering her hand to Rose. "It's nice to meet you."

"You have no idea how nice it is to meet you," Rose replied. She bypassed Elena's hand and pulled her into a hug. Trevor gave Damon a sly thumbs up from behind the two girls which made Damon grin. "You're even prettier in person."

"I'm still adjusting to the part where she actually exists," Trevor said. He held out his hand to Elena who took it. "When Rose told me there was a woman in Damon's life, I thought for sure she was making it up." He kissed the back of her hand politely and then let it go.

"You should be more concerned about the fact that you somehow have managed to keep a girl," Damon shot back. Rose and Trevor slid into one side of the booth while Elena and Damon took the seats across from them. Damon squeezed her hand under the table reassuringly.

"Rose loves me," Trevor said with a cocky grin. He kissed Rose's cheek which caused her to make a face.

"I do love you," she confirmed. "I just don't always like you." She turned to Elena. "Although he does have a point. If I hadn't seen Damon sitting at a bar, sulking because you hadn't texted him all day, and then witnessed him light up like the Rockefeller Christmas Tree when you did, I would have never believed it." Elena frowned, trying to remember.

"When was that?" she asked.

"When I had to come up here for Enzo," Damon admitted. "You were drinking with Rebekah instead of replying to text messages."

"I was babysitting," Elena corrected. Damon raised an eyebrow. Elena rolled her eyes. "And then Rebekah and I had some wine."

"You don't get to give her a hard time when you were drinking a glass of scotch all by your lonesome," Rose stated. A waitress dressed in a revealing skirt and blazer combo appeared at their table and took Damon and Elena's drink orders. "He showed me your picture," Rose told Elena after the waitress was gone. "That's when I knew he was hung up on you." Elena glanced at Damon and saw his cheeks were the faintest shade of red.

Rose and Elena fell into an easy conversation, leaving Damon and Trevor to discuss sports, the only real thing they had in common aside from Rose. Even as he talked to Trevor, Damon kept a hand on Elena's thigh, occasionally giving it a squeeze, teasing her. For her part, she didn't give anything away, but slyly put her hand over his to squeeze it before eventually resting her own hand high on his thigh.

"I'm going to get another drink," Trevor said after a while. "Rose, can I get you anything?"

"Another one of these," Rose said, indicating her empty martini glass.

"Elena?" Damon asked, sliding out of the booth to follow Trevor's lead.

"Another glass of wine would be good," she said, giving him a soft smile that made his heart palpitate. He nodded and disappeared with Trevor. Rose watched them go, making sure they were out of hearing distance before turning to Elena.

"It's good to see him happy," she said. "He deserves it."

"It' been a rough month or so for him," Elena said with a nod. Rose smiled.

"It's been a rough year for him," she corrected. "It's not my place to go into details, but it's nice to see him smiling. Really smiling, not that smarmy smirk he uses when he's trying to pick up a woman for the night." Rose seemed to remember who she was talking to. "Sorry," she added. "It's just… Damon…"

"He hit on me at his father's funeral," Elena told her. "And then ended up in a coat closet with some blonde when I turned him down. I know exactly what smirk you're talking about."

"He really hit on you at his father's funeral?" Rose asked. Elena nodded in confirmation.

"Apparently I looked bored by the open bar so he used that as an excuse to invite me to have a little more fun." Rose made a face.

"There was an open bar at a funeral?"

"Repasses are a bit over the top down south," Elena explained. "Especially when it's the repass of a member of a founding family." Rose shook her head in disbelief.

"I'm glad you turned him down," she said. "If you hadn't, you would have never seen him again after the coat closet."

"He said you turned him down," Elena ventured.

"I did," Rose nodded. "And then the smartass made a comment about me being a lesbian because obviously that is the only way I'd turn Damon Salvatore down." Elena chuckled. "I kicked his ass. More with words than literal kicking of the ass, but with Damon, you have to do that sometimes."

"He's stubborn," Elena agreed.

"Among other things," Rose nodded. She glanced over at the bar where Trevor and Damon were waiting for their drinks. "But seriously, it's great to see him happy again. He was down and out for a while. Trevor and I didn't think he'd ever let himself fall for someone again."

"Katherine," Elena said, letting the girl's name fall from her lips before she could stop herself. She hadn't let on to Damon that she was aware of Katherine, wasn't sure how to bring it up with him. But she had thought of the woman occasionally, usually cursing her for breaking Damon's heart, but sometimes, when she was in Damon's arms, thanking her for letting him go.

"That would be the bitch who broke his heart," Rose said with malice. "He was a mess for a while. But seeing him walk in here with you… He was practically skipping. So consider this my warning, Elena. Don't hurt him. Feel free to yell at him, put him in his place. He's going to need that from time to time. But don't hurt him. He's been through enough." Elena smiled at Rose.

"I don't plan on hurting him," she said. "And thank you, for caring about him. He doesn't always realize there are people who do." The two women exchanged another smile, ending their conversation as the men returned to their table.

"For you," Damon said, placing a glass of wine in front of Elena, his own tumbler of bourbon in his hand as he sat back down. He leaned over. "Let's go home after this one," he whispered in her hear. Elena nodded her agreement. Then she clinked her glass with his and grinned coyly.

"Drink up."

* * *

><p>Over an hour later, Damon let them into his apartment. Elena wasted no time in stepping out of her wedges, her feet killing her.<p>

"I told you we should have taken a cab instead of walking back to my place," Damon said with a knowing grin as he leaned over to pick up Elena's shoes and move them out of the middle of the floor. He dropped them next to the door and didn't see Elena smirk. She wasn't exactly messy, but she could stand to leave a pair of shoes in her living room overnight. For Damon, however, everything had a place.

"It was too beautiful of a night to take a cab," she told him. Damon had to agree. The city seemed to be pulling out all the stops, from the perfect early fall temperatures to the way the lights were twinkling. It hadn't hurt that a beautiful woman had held on to the crook of his arm as they walked.

"You look beautiful tonight," Damon told her, crossing the room to her so he could put his arms around her. "I know I told you that earlier, but it warranted being said again."

"Thank you," Elena said softly. She didn't know if she would ever get used to Damon complimenting her. She hoped she wouldn't. They exchanged a soft kiss. "I liked Rose," she added.

"Rose liked you," Damon replied. "She likes you a lot. And Trevor also approves, not that his opinion matters." Elena laughed and untangled herself from Damon.

"I'm going to go change," she told him. Damon nodded. Elena disappeared into his bedroom and removed her dress before stepping into the bathroom to remove her makeup and prepare for bed. She heard Damon come into the bedroom and knew by the sound of him opening drawers that he was changing into pajamas as well.

It was strange, she realized, getting ready for bed with someone. Even though she had dated and had a few relationships over the years, she had never really gone through her bedtime routine with the man she was planning to sleep next to present. It was strangely intimate. She had just finished brushing out her hair when she heard Damon tap on the partially open door, remaining on the other side of it to respect her privacy, should she need it.

"Lena?"

"Come in," she told him. He pulled the door the rest of the way open and gave her a smile before reaching around her to retrieve his toothbrush. He started through the motions of brushing his teeth which for whatever reason, made Elena smile. She picked up her own toothbrush and went through the same motions, barely avoiding choking on her own spit when Damon unabashedly spit into the sink, rinsed his mouth and then the sink and then kissed her cheek before disappearing back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him to let her finish her routine in peace.

When she opened the door a few minutes later, he was lounging on the bed, shirtless, but wearing a pair of pajamas pants she found highly unnecessary. He was propped up on his pillows, one arm resting casually behind his head. She wordlessly climbed in beside him, tucking herself into his side. His arms snaked around her and he kissed her forehead before just holding her for a while. Elena chewed on her lip, knowing she needed to bring up the "girlfriend" slip from earlier before she could rest.

"Damon?"

"Hmm?" He had closed his eyes, but opened them to look at her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything." Elena took a deep breath which got his attention.

"Earlier, on the phone with Harper, you referred to me as your girl." Damon nodded but didn't say anything, waiting, sure he knew where this conversation was going. He took a few breaths to steady his heart which was suddenly racing. "And then you introduced me to Rose and Trevor as your girlfriend." Damon nodded again. Elena sat up slightly, wishing he would say something. "What does that mean?"

Damon sat up in bed and took one more deep breath. He wanted this with Elena, but the idea of a relationship, of putting his heart on the line, still scared him down to his very soul. He reached for Elena's hand, needing physical contact to anchor him in the moment.

"It means I consider you my girlfriend," he told her. "I had no intentions of that happening. I spied you by the bar at my father's funeral, thought you were beautiful, and decided you would be the one to ease my fake grief. But then you turned me down which only heightened my attraction to you and you did nothing to turn me off when you were so flippant with me the day I joined you at the coffee shop."

"I was not flippant," Elena interrupted. "You interrupted me." Damon smirked.

"You called me an ass," he reminded her. Elena scoffed, admittedly surprised he remembered one of their earliest exchanges which had been brief.

"You were all 'talk to me' on the phone, making comments about how you always get what you want. And I was trying to work. You were definitely being an ass."

"The argument could be made that I was also working," Damon said, earning himself another eye roll from Elena. "But then I walked you home from The Grill that night. My intentions were mainly to see you home safely, but I will confess that I had a veiled hope that I may end up in your bed. Instead, I found a woman who was not only beautiful, but was also intelligent. And so I asked you to dinner and you've managed to captivate me ever since. So yes, I think of you as my girlfriend. What I am to you is completely up to you, but I hope you'll consider an equal term of endearment." Elena was beaming.

"That was quite the speech," she told him. He brushed his fingertips along her cheek.

"You're quite the girl."

"I want this," she told him. "I want us. I want to introduce you as my boyfriend and say things like 'my boyfriend took me to dinner at such and such place the other night.'" She paused and laced her fingers with Damon's. "There's just the matter of the fact that we live in two separate places and lead two very different lives. Yours is chaotic and high profile. Mine is much simpler. Relationships are a lot of work and when they're long distance too…"

"They're even more work," Damon finished. He moved so he was sitting upright against the headboard and pulled Elena with him. "But we both want this. That's half the battle."

"How do we do it?" Elena asked. She looked up at him from where her head was resting on his shoulder.

"Well, we figure it out, step by step," Damon told her. "I'll be back and forth to Mystic Falls a lot over the next several months. You can come spend time here, with me. And they make these things called phones and computers that make it really easy to talk to people whenever we want. I could literally video chat you from the back of a taxi. We can do this, Elena."

"We can," she confirmed. Part of her mind jumped far ahead to a point where they would need to make a decision on how they would spend the rest of their lives. Would she live in New York? Would he move back to Mystic Falls? But then she remembered this was brand new, that they had only been together a month and a half. Damon was right. They just had to take it step by step and figure out what came next as "next" came.

"So – this is official?" Damon asked. Elena could hear the anxiousness in his voice. She smiled at him and nodded.

"It's official," she confirmed. She leaned in and kissed him then, a long, sweet kiss that essentially served to seal their relationship. But when she pulled away, she felt the nagging need to tell him she knew about Katherine in the name of keeping their relationship open and honest. "There's something else."

"Let's hear it," Damon said, his arm that wasn't around Elena going back to rest behind his head. He looked comfortable, at ease. She hated that she was potentially about to destroy that.

"Stefan told me about Katherine," she admitted. While Damon didn't remove his arm from around her, she felt his grip slacken and watched as his face fell.

"Did he?" Damon asked. "And when did my little brother think to tell you all about a time in my life I'd rather forget ever happened?" There was an edge to his tone that made Elena uneasy.

"He came to see me a couple days after I spent the night at the Boarding House when the storms came through," Elena explained. "He didn't mean anything malicious…" Damon snorted. "He didn't," she insisted, putting a hand on his chest. She could see him shutting down, pulling back. Appropriately, Stefan's words about fighting for him when he tried to push her away flooded back. "He was there to ask me to give you a chance, to fight for you when I needed to. He thought I should know about Katherine. I should have told you sooner, but it never seemed to be the right time."

"How does Stefan always come off as the good guy?" Damon asked. Elena shook her head and pulled away to sit upright and face Damon.

"No," she said. "This isn't about Stefan. Maybe he overstepped his boundaries, but he did so in hopes that I would understand you better. Your reputation proceeded you, Damon, even if I hadn't seen you slip into a coat closet with the blonde at your father's funeral. I know relationships aren't your specialty, which makes the fact that you want one with me all the more special." She paused and shook her head slightly, even as Damon remained silent.

"The point I'm trying to make here is, I know Katherine hurt you. And I want you to know that I know that. You don't need to tell me anything about her. I'm not asking you to. I just want you to know that I know. And that I'm not her."

Silence fell between them. Elena sat on the bed for a while, waiting for Damon to say something. She could practically see the gears churning in his head. Several minutes passed and for no reason other than the fact that the silence was starting to drive her mad, she excused herself to get something to drink. She took her time in the kitchen, sipping a glass of orange juice as she looked at the city that was visible through the window. Knowing she couldn't hide forever, she made her was back to the bedroom. Damon was sitting on the edge of the bed, taking in the same view Elena had just been admiring.

"Took you long enough," he said, not looking at her. Elena stood at the foot of the bed, not sure whether to join him. She had never intended to upset him, had just wanted to be honest with him, and yet his walls seemed to have been reconstructed at record speed.

"I thought you might need a minute," she said softly. Something in her tone made Damon turn to her. He saw then that she was nervous, timid, even. His resolve to be mad at her for not telling him she knew about Katherine until now dissolved though he still had a few choice words he planned to say to Stefan.

"You can sit down," he said bluntly, turning back to the window. He knew a lot of his reaction was based on fear. He didn't like to relive his time with Katherine and he certainly didn't like to explore what her betrayal had done to him. But Elena seemed to have a knack for unknowingly making him face his fears and so here he was, once more about to break a personal commandment, this one being to never speak of Katherine Pierce.

Elena hesitated for a beat, something Damon didn't miss, before she carefully climbed onto the bed as though she didn't want to disturb him. She stayed on her side, waiting for Damon to make the next move. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself back on the bed so he was once more resting against the headboard with Elena mimicking him on her side.

"I know you aren't her," he said. "You are kind and good and compassionate. You do favor her – the same dark hair, the same dark eyes – but that's where the comparisons end. Your have a pure heart. Her's was as black as they come." Elena chewed on her lip. She'd been unaware that she favored Katherine and wasn't sure how she felt about that new piece of information. But then she dismissed it, based completely on Damon's words that she wasn't a thing like Katherine.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I knew about her sooner," she said. "Don't be too upset with Stefan? He meant well. He was just looking out for you, trying to protect you."

"I don't need protecting," Damon snorted.

"I know," Elena soothed. "But Stefan was just doing what any good brother would do. He's my friend, but ultimately, he's on your side. Whether you want him to be or not." Damon shook his head before he leaned it back against his headboard.

"How did this turn back into a conversation about Stefan?" Elena sighed.

"I don't know," she admitted. She decided to tell him the rest of what Stefan had said during his visit. "He told me about Katherine as a warning – as a way to warn me not to hurt you. And then he asked me to talk to you about him, put in a good word. I don't need to know about your past with Katherine. I don't need to know all the details about why you and Stefan have such a difficult relationship. But I needed to tell you the truth because I know you've been lied to enough in the past."

With a deep breath, Elena sat upright in the bed and turned so she was facing Damon full on. If she was going to put her heart on the line, she was going to do it looking in his eyes.

"You are not perfect," she informed him. "You drink too when things get hard. You're cocky. You know how attractive you are and you aren't afraid to turn on the charm to get what you want. You try to push people away who care about you and you don't let many people see the side of you that I get to see – the part that can quote Faulkner and lets Ella cuddle up with you on the couch to watch cartoons.

"I'm not perfect either. I overthink everything and I spend a lot of time denying my heart because my head tells me something different. I'd rather spend my Friday nights with a book and a mug of hot tea than put on a dress and hit the town. I'm lame in every sense of the word. But you bring out another side of me, a side that makes me feel alive.

"As imperfect as you are, I accept you just as you are. I'm not going to try to change you or make you into a man you aren't. I'm not going to play the middle man between you and Stefan and I'm certainly not going to sleep with any of your clients." Elea paused and bit her lip for a moment. "I just thought you should know that," she added. It took a moment before Damon reached for her hand and tangled his fingers with hers.

"Here's the thing," he said. "You have changed me, Elena. I'm still a jackass. I'm always going to be, especially when it comes to my job. I'm always going to drink more bourbon than is strictly necessary. And you're right, I do know I'm better looking than the average guy and there has been times when I have used it to my advantage.

"But you've got me holding doors and buying flowers and asking you to be my girlfriend. The guy I was six weeks ago would have never done any of those things. He certainly wouldn't have watched an absolutely mind numbing show about a bald toddler named Caribou with a two year old while you were upstairs taking a shower. That Damon? He would have given the kid a popsicle and joined you."

"Callilou," Elena said with a smile. Damon frowned.

"What?"

"The bald toddler? His name is Callilou." Damon shook his head.

"Whatever," he said. "Still a horrible show. But my point is, you've changed me. It's not always easy for me to reconcile that. You've seen a glowing representation of how I react when things don't go my way. But you have changed me. And I like what you've done with me so far." Elena smiled at him.

"Are we okay?" she asked. Damon nodded with a smile.

"We're good," he confirmed. He held his arm out for her and she went to him, curling into his side. He kissed her forehead. "For what it's worth, Katherine did break my heart. She shattered it and I was in a dark place for a long time. But we were never good for one another. We were toxic. And now, I'm damn glad she woke me up to how horrible of a person she was. She let me go. So I could find you."

"You really do have a way with words," Elena told him, her smile still in place. "I can only imagine how persuasive you are at the negotiating table."

"I can assure you that Harper James will have his premiere parking spot," Damon replied, earning a laugh from Elena. He kissed her forehead again and then stood up. He reached out and tugged at the comforter, pulling it out from under her and then covered her with it. He slid in beside her and turned off his bedside lamp before rolling over and pulling her into his chest, his other arm going under her head so she was using it as a pillow. Tonight, he would just hold her, let her know she was precious to him.

"Goodnight, Damon," she whispered, her hand reaching up to grasp his hand that was under her head. He kissed her hair.

"Night, angel."

* * *

><p><strong>They're official! Woo hoo! And the gala is coming up in the next chapter - good times! <strong>

**Harper was partially inspired by Michael Oher. And as a Tennessee grad, you have no _idea _how it pained me to write that Bama was the best of the best. But I did it. **

**Let me know what you thought of this one!**


	18. Gala

**It's gala time! I'm apologizing again for not getting to update during the week. I'm down an employee at work which means I'm pulling some extra weight. The good news? I've got several updates all written! **

**Thank you all for your reviews last chapter. I love reading them - some of you are so insightful and make some pretty amazing predictions (meaning you've picked up on the subtly placed clues throughout!). Thank you so much for your support. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Elena scrutinized herself in the mirror, trying to decide if she was ready. Her hair fell in soft waves down her back, the front pulled away from her face and pinned back with an elaborate hairpiece. Her makeup was heavier than usual, her eyelids smoky, her lips a pink she normally would have steered away from, but the woman at the MAC counter had talked her into it when she stopped to buy a replacement for the foundation she forgot in Mystic Falls the day before.<p>

Her dress was long and blue, strapless with a sweetheart neckline. It hugged her curves before flaring out slightly at her hips. The heels she wore were strappy and four inches tall, sure to cause her severe pain by night's end. Her jewelry was simple but accented her look perfectly, a pair of teardrop sapphire earrings dangling from her ears, a single sapphire gemstone hanging from a gold chain which had belonged to her mother around her neck With a confident nod, she decided she was indeed ready.

She exited Damon's bathroom and added her lipstick and mascara to her clutch before leaving the bedroom. She found him with his back to her, standing at the floor to ceiling windows, nursing a tumbler of bourbon and dressed in a tux as he took in the cityscape. Even from behind, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

The sound of her heels on the hardwood floor pulled him from his thoughts. He turned, a remark about how it had taken her so long to get ready that the gala would be over before they even caught a taxi on the tip of his tongue, but he forgot it as soon as his eyes landed on hers.

"Wow," he breathed. He started towards her, leaving his still full glass of bourbon on the counter as he passed it. "Elena… You look… Stunning…" She beamed at him, amused by his sudden inability to string words together when he was usually so eloquent.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Salvatore," she said. She reached up to straighten his bowtie as his hands found her waist.

"It's safe to assume we're going to make everyone at the gala jealous," he told her. "We are hot."

"We are," Elena confirmed with a laugh. Damon's eyes fell on her lips.

"I like this color," he said, brushing a thumb along her lips. "Shame you took so long applying it, only to have me mess it all up." With that, he leaned down and kissed her deeply, his hand cupping her cheek. He finally pulled away, smirking at how he had left Elena breathless.

"I'm glad you like this color," she told him. "Because you're wearing it now." Damon chuckled and kissed Elena one more time before he let her go. He moved to the kitchen sink and wetted a napkin to wipe the lipstick away while Elena took out a compact mirror and her lipstick from her clutch and reapplied.

"I got you something," Damon said, returning to her. He was suddenly nervous. Elena lifted an eyebrow.

"You did what?"

"I got you something," Damon repeated as he reached into his jacket. "It won't match your dress, but I want to give it to you now. It seems like the right time." He pulled out a long, bright blue Tiffany box and held it out to her. "For you."

"Damon…" Elena said, speechless as she took the box. "You didn't have to…"

"I know," Damon said simply. He nodded towards the box, indicating that she should open it. Elena felt a sense of excitement brewing as she pulled at the end of the white ribbon wrapped around the box. She wasn't one to be swayed by gifts, but she couldn't help swooning. Damon standing before her dressed in a tux, a Tiffany box in hand, was easily one of the most romantic things that had happened to her. She gasped as she took the lid off.

"Damon!" she exclaimed, picking up the delicate silver bracelet, an infinity symbol encrusted with small diamonds embedded in it. "This is beautiful!" She looked at him, smiling. "You didn't have to…" she tried again, even as her eyes danced with excitement.

"I wanted to," Damon said, cutting her off once more. "You deserve beautiful things." Elena held the box out to him.

"Put it on me?" she asked. Damon took in her gold jewelry.

"It doesn't match," he said as he took the box. "You don't have to wear it tonight, Elena. I just wanted you to have it."

"I don't care if it matches," Elena said with a shake of her head. She held her arm out and Damon smiled, pleased with himself, as he hooked the bracelet around Elena's small wrist. He kissed the back of her hand before he let it go.

"Perfect," he said. "You and the bracelet."

"Thank you," Elena told him. She reached for him and kissed him lightly, careful to avoid smudging her lipstick on Damon once more.

"Ready to go make all my friends jealous?" Damon asked as she pulled away. He offered her his arm.

"You mean Rose and Trevor?" she asked, slipping her hand around his elbow. "Because they're the only friends you've mentioned and I don't think they'll be jealous of you in the least."

"I use the word 'friends' lightly," Damon said as they made their way out of the apartment, pausing outside of it just long enough to lock the door. "With the exception of Rose and on a good day, Trevor, these people are more like acquaintances I stay on good terms with so I can call them up when I need a favor." The elevator arrived.

"Come on, Salvatore," Elena said, pulling him into the lift. "I'm all dressed up. It's time for you to show me off."

* * *

><p>Elena had been to a number of formal events over the years. She had been a debutante and Miss Mystic Falls had been her crown jewel event throughout high school and after. She had attended a number of formals and balls during her college years and along with her status as a bestselling author had come charity events and black tie affairs.<p>

But she had never seen anything like this.

The gala was being held in the grand ballroom of one of the most exclusive hotels in New York. Round tables draped in expensive linens holding plate settings that cost more than some people made in a week were strategically placed around a dance floor. A house band played a light jazz number as people milled around, bidding on silent auction items and greeting one another with fake smiles and "great to see yous."

Damon had slipped into business mode as soon as they arrived, greeting person after person like they were an old friend. He asked them about their kids and their wives, inquired about whether they had found a new, bigger apartment on the Upper East Side yet and how their last visit of the season to their home in the Hamptons had been. He was devastatingly charming and had everyone, particularly the wives of his business contacts, eating out of the palm of his hand.

He had introduced her to each and every person he had encountered, proudly telling them she was his girlfriend and keeping a hand on the small of her back or else tucking her hand into the crook of his proffered arm as he talked. She had politely joined in on conversations where she could and often struck up side conversations with the dates of whomever Damon was talking to. She was pleasantly surprised to find she was enjoying herself.

"You doing okay?" Damon asked softly once they stepped away from an executive of a golf apparel brand one of Damon's clients had an endorsement deal with and his wife who had commandeered the better part of the last fifteen minutes to rave about how well the pro golfer was playing and how good he looked in their clothing.

"I am," Elena said with a smile. "I'm enjoying watching you work the room." He grinned.

"Oh, sweet, naïve Elena," he said. "You are the one working this room. You're just too blind to see how all the men are staring at you." Elena shook her head but didn't bother responding. She had caught the occasional eye lingering on her a bit longer than she was comfortable with, but she knew it was innocent. And if she had to watch women ogle Damon, it was only fair he got his just return.

"Dinner is going to be served shortly," he told her. He nodded towards a balding older gentleman who had a kind looking older woman on his arm. The couple was conversing with another couple who, Elena realized, was Trevor and Rose. She smiled. She had been waiting to run into them. "But I need a favor."

"I may regret this, but okay. What do you need?"

"That man Trevor is talking to? His name is Peter Jameson. He's the CEO of a company that makes top shelf athletic apparel and he's looking for a football player to be the face of their new campaign. I want the deal for Harper, but Trevor has a slight advantage on me. He has a quarterback that is a marketing dream and worked with this guy a couple years ago. But the guy's wife? Her name is Marlene and she's a literature junky. It just so happens that she also loves your book. It came up in conversation the last time I spoke with them. Would you mind if I let her in on the fact that you are E.L. Gilbert?"

"She likes my book?" Elena asked. "Because if she doesn't…" Damon chuckled.

"She does," he promised. "But my lips are sealed if you don't want to be outed." He had assumed she had a reason for going by her initials professionally, but he'd never gotten around to asking why. He made a mental note to ask her about that soon.

"I do like meeting my fans," she quipped, giving him permission. He pressed a quick kiss to her temple and led the way to the Jamesons. She grinned slightly when Trevor caught sight of Damon approaching and frowned, hiding it quickly as he continued his conversation. Rose saw the exchange as well and winked at her.

"Mr. Jameson," Damon greeted, interrupting the conversation gracefully. "How have you been? It's been a while."

"Damon!" the man greeted, offering Damon his hand to shake. "I've been well. Yourself?"

"I have no complaints," Damon replied, making sure his handshake was firm. "And Mrs. Jameson, pleasure to see you again as well. You look lovely this evening." He turned his charms on the older woman who beamed at him.

"It's always a pleasure to run into you, young man," she replied with a hint of a Southern accent. Trevor rolled his eyes. Damon placed his hand on Elena's back which the woman noticed almost immediately. "And who is this beautiful young lady?" Damon couldn't stop the bright smile that broke across his face.

"Mr. Jameson, Mrs. Jameson, this is my girlfriend, Elena," he said. "Elena, this is Mr. and Mrs. Jameson."

"It's wonderful to meet you," Elena said, stepping up to turn on her own charm. Mr. Jameson took her hand for a moment and then Mrs. Jameson mimicked his move. "Rose, Trevor," Elena added, acknowledging their presence.

"Elena!" Rose said, moving forward to hug her briefly. "I've been waiting to run into you!"

"Damon," Trevor said, politely shaking hands with Damon. Elena could practically feel the testosterone rolling off the two of them. Rose caught Elena's eye and the two shared a knowing grin.

"Well, Damon, she is a pretty thing," Marlene said, eyeing Elena with approval. "How long have the two of you been together?"

"We've been seeing each other for a couple of months, but we grew up together in Virginia." It was a bit of a stretch as Damon was a full six years older than her and their paths had hardly crossed, but it was close enough to the truth.

"How sweet!" she said, seemingly delighted. Damon squeezed Elena's hand which his had somehow found again without his knowledge. He had the distinct impression Marlene was a bored housewife now that her kids were out of the house and grandkids hadn't yet filled it. Of course she would take a keen interest in the relationship of someone she barely knew.

"That running back of yours is off to a hell of a start," Mr. Jameson said to Damon, changing the subject. "What's his name? Harper James?"

"Yes, sir," Damon confirmed with a nod. "He's leading the league in rushing yards right now."

"But the Redskins haven't really played anyone with a stout defense yet," Trevor piped up.

"I don't know about that," Mr. Jameson countered. "Their opening game against the Colts wasn't one to bat an eye at. They have a pretty sturdy D-line." Trevor opened his mouth to argue, but Marlene beat him to it.

"Enough football talk," she said, knowing how her husband could go on and on. "We're at a formal affair. Let's leave the shoulder pads and sweat on the field, shall we?" Mr. Jameson nodded his agreement, giving Elena the impression he wasn't one to deny his wife. "Now, Damon, you tell me, have you read any good books lately?" Damon grinned. He couldn't have asked for a better segue into revealing Elena's profession. The fact that Trevor would witness him pull his trump card was just an added bonus.

"I actually just finished re-reading _Turning Home," _he said. "You see, I asked this beautiful woman standing next to me to dinner and it just so happens she's a writer. I started snooping for things she'd written before taking her out and as it turns out, she penned one of my favorite books in recent memory." It took a few short moments for Marlene to put the pieces together. Then she gasped, her eyes growing wide.

"Elena! Would your last name happed to be Gilbert?" she asked. Elena beamed.

"Yes, ma'am," she nodded. "And my middle name is Louisa, after my grandmother. Hence, E.L. Gilbert. My agent thought it sounded more professional than my full name." Damon grinned to himself, thinking that was one question he didn't have to ask.

"My dear! What a pleasure to meet you!" Marlene grasped Elena's hand, her eyes dancing. "I just loved _Turning Home! _It's one of my favorite books from recent publication. There are rumors of a sequel. Would they happen to be true?"

"They would be," Elena confirmed. "There's no official release date, but we're hoping for the spring. And you didn't hear a word of this from me." Marlene looked like Christmas had come early while Trevor, Damon noted, looked irritated that Marlene, a key to her husband's good graces, was falling all over Elena.

"Damon, you must let me steal this charming young lady for a few minutes," Marlene said, reaching out and taking a gentle grasp on Elena's elbow. "I have some friends who would just adore her." Elena gave Damon the slightest nod of her head to indicate it was fine.

"If you must," Damon said.

"I'll have her back before the first course," Marlene promised.

* * *

><p>"There you are," Damon said, standing as Elena approached their assigned table a half hour later. She looked happy, he noted. "I was about to send out an APB."<p>

"Marlene is charming," Elena replied as Damon pulled out her chair. She kissed his cheek before she sat down. Another couple was already seated across from them, wrapped up in what appeared to be a lover's quarrel. "How did things go with her husband after I left?"

"Good," Damon told her, taking his seat beside her. "He adores his wife and saw how happy it made her to meet you. He's also a big fan of Harper's. I've got a meeting with him to discuss the apparel deal next week."

"Congratulations," Elena told him.

"The best part?" Damon asked. "Trevor got pulled away by some publicist of one of his clients and couldn't interrupt me selling my guy." Elena shook her head with a grin.

"You do always get what you want," she reminded him. Damon looked at her for a long moment before he nodded once.

"Damn right I do."

* * *

><p>The night was going better than Damon could have hoped it would. He had spent the first part of the evening mingling, networking his way through the gala with Elena at his side. He had been worried about her reaction, wondered if he was throwing her to the metaphorical sharks. As formal and polite as everything seemed at the surface, everyone in attendance had an agenda, himself included. He had worried too about what Elena would think of the side of him that wore slick suits and talked fast to get what he wanted. She had only seen hints of that part of him while in Mystic Falls.<p>

But as Elena tended to do, she had surprised him. She had stood tall at his side and engaged people in conversation, full of charm and grace. Her upbringing in a small Southern town where her family had been at the center of nearly everything had more than prepared her to hold her own. She wasn't just a pretty woman on his arm and anyone who had met her knew that by the time they parted ways.

Standing at the very edges of the party, he sipped on his drink and watched as she danced with an older gentleman, the husband of one of his media contacts who turned out to be a VP for a top vitamin producer. Damon had his business card tucked securely in the pocket of his jacket, intending to reach out to him for a friendly lunch meeting sometime in the next week, forage a relationship that could prove lucrative should the company be in need of a spokesman at any point.

He smiled as the man twirled Elena who was by far the superior dancer of the two. He had barely managed to get a word in with her since dinner had been served, let alone a dance, as first Marlene had scooped her up once more to introduce her to another round of friends and then Rose had commandeered her before Elena's dance card had started to fill up with middle-aged men looking for a dance with anyone but their dates. He had kept an eye on her, just in case any of them tried something, but he also knew she could take care of himself.

"Care to ask a lady to dance?"

Damon cringed as he took a drink from his glass. He would recognize that voice anywhere. He slowly turned to look at the woman who had appeared at his side. Dressed in a red cocktail dress that left little to the imagination, Katherine Pierce smirked at him, her lips the same shade of red as her dress.

"I would if I saw one," Damon replied. He took another swig from his drink, silently cursing his luck. He hadn't known Katherine was in attendance.

"Glad to see that charm hasn't gone anywhere," Katherine replied. "Seriously, Damon, ask me to dance."

"I'd rather rip my fingernails off one by one."

"What, afraid that sweet little country bumpkin you brought along as your date will get upset?" Damon looked at her. "I heard," she continued with a nod. "It seems she's quite the charmer. All the bored wives are raving about how darling she is and the dirty old men are falling over themselves for the chance to dance with her."

"Jealous?" Damon asked. He knew Katherine was used to being the center of attention.

"Hardly," Katherine scoffed. "Although I did notice she bears a striking resemblance to me."

"I assure you she is nothing like you," Damon informed her. "She has an actual beating heart where your piece of stone resides."

"You wound me."

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked. He drained his bourbon and willed the glass to refill itself. "Didn't Schwartz's wife run you off to the West Coast?" The client he had caught Katherine with had been married to a high profile fashion designer who had immediately used her influence to blacklist Katherine from every fashion house and casting agency in the city, forcing her to take her career to Los Angeles.

"I left for bigger and better, not to mention sunnier and warmer, things," Katherine retorted which told Damon he was right. "And I'm here because I support sick children."

"The gala is raising funds for clean drinking water in third world countries," Damon informed her. He took a moment to really look at her and in that moment, wondered what he had ever seen in her. She was attractive, that he wouldn't deny. But the air around her was frigid, her smile fake. He couldn't believe she fooled him for so long. He placed his empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter.

"Same thing," Katherine said dismissively, studying her manicure. That's when Damon noticed the giant diamond on her left ring finger.

"You work fast," he commented, nodding towards it. "You'll have to let me know who the unfortunate soul is so I can send him my condolences."

"He's a producer out in Hollywood," Katherine informed him. Then she smirked. "And of course I work fast. We both know I like to be taken care of." Three months ago, her words, confirmation that she had never really loved him, would have sent Damon to the nearest bar. Now, he just felt sorry for her.

"Take care of yourself, Katherine," he said, giving her a polite nod before he started to walk away. She frowned.

"Where are you going?" she called after him. He looked at her over his shoulder.

"To ask a lady to dance."

He didn't bother to wait for her reaction. He had crossed paths with Katherine just twice before in the last year and both times had resulted in him drinking himself into a stupor for several days running. This time, it felt like closure. This time, he was walking towards Elena instead of the first neon sign he came across. He stepped onto the dance floor and weaved in and out of couples until he was next to Elena.

"May I cut in?" he asked, tapping the man she was dancing with on the shoulder. He didn't recognize this man, but he was holding Elena at arms' length so he deemed him harmless. The man grinned at Damon and nodded, bowing out of the dance.

"How chivalrous of you," Elena said as Damon took her hand in his and wrapped an arm around her waist. She placed her hand on his shoulder and allowed him to pull her close as they swayed to the song that was playing.

"I can't resist a damsel in distress," he told Elena seriously.

"Funny," she quipped with a grin. "I didn't see one around here." Damon rested his forehead against hers.

"Fine. I don't like seeing another man's hands on my girl."

"Fortunately for you, the only hands I want on me are yours." Damon raised his eyebrows in surprise. He never expected Elena to make suggestive comments and while they were rare, they always caught him off guard.

"Wait until I get you home," he growled into her ear. "My hands will be all over you." Elena blushed and tucked her head under his chin. He chuckled lightly. He loved that he could do that to her – push her out of her comfort zone and yet have her still completely trust him. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and smirked when he caught Marlene and Peter Jameson watching them with matching smiles.

"You're a good dancer," Elena commented, lifting her head to look up at Damon.

"Only because I have a good partner," he replied. He spied Katherine across the room, looking bored next to a man that was so stereotypical Hollywood it was sad. He knew he had to tell Elena, give her a heads up, even though he also instinctively knew Katherine wouldn't cause trouble. Her choices had cost her enough in New York City, at least when it came to her career. She wouldn't step out of line if she thought she had any chance of salvaging some of her business relationships.

"You should know, Katherine is here," Damon told her as they danced. "She won't bother you. But I wanted you to know." Elena looked up at him for a long moment.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked. Damon gave her a soft smile, amazed yet again that she was concerned about him.

"I'm just fine," he told her honestly. "She's in the past." He took a step back and twirled Elena around, drawing a light laugh from her. As he pulled her into his arms, he knew. He was completely and irrevocably in love with Elena Gilbert.

* * *

><p><strong>And there, friends, is Katherine's only physical appearance in this story. I never intended her to be a major source of friction or drama, but I did want to show Damon finding some closure there. He's moved on and he's happy and he's realized that after this gala. He's got plenty of other demons, if you will. Katherine doesn't need to be one of them. ;) <strong>

**Let me know what you thought of this one! XOXO**


	19. Facetime

**Hi, friends! I've been quiet around here, I know. I'm sorry. I took the weekend off from the computer screen to enjoy Easter with my family. And there's this whole thing with a sudden influx of new clients at work... Great, but good grief, does it keep a girl busy... Good thing I've been writing this thing out well ahead of where I'm posting! **

**I'm so thrilled y'all liked how Katherine was included in the last chapter. As I said, Katherine causing trouble has been done to death. She'll be mentioned from time to time, but that was her only physical appearance. Thank you 1,000 times over for all of your support and reviews. Love you all! **

**Disclaimer - I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Elena glanced at the time in the corner of her computer screen. It was nearly 2AM. She stifled a yawn, reached for her mug of cold coffee and arched her back to relieve some of the tension that had built as she worked. She studied the pages before her, attempting to re-read what she had just spent hours writing, but the words blurred together. With a sigh, she closed the laptop, took off her glasses and stood, stretching her arms over her head.<p>

She was chapters ahead of where her agent had expected her to be, the words coming fast as she worked. She had woken inspired that morning and went straight to work after brewing a pot of coffee and toasting a frozen waffle. She had made herself stop mid-morning and attend to the chores she had been neglecting for the last few days. She had ventured to the grocery store and managed to make herself a decent meal and have an hour long conversation with Caroline who was still reeling from the fact that Tyler had accepted the job in Richmond. Then, she had put on another pot of coffee, changed into something more comfortable, and sat down on her couch to pick up where she left off.

Throughout her busy day, she hadn't heard from Damon. She tried to tell herself that he was just busy. He was spread thin and hadn't had a chance to return her phone call from that morning or reply to her text message from that afternoon. But it was getting harder for her to believe that as the day wore on. He had texted her the previous morning, but she hadn't heard from him since. It had been three days since she'd last talked to him on the phone and five since they had video chatted. She didn't like the silence, even though she trusted him completely.

The remainder of her time in New York had been perfect. They had tripped into Damon's apartment in the wee hours of the morning after the gala, a tangled mess of arms and legs as their clothing hit the floor, leaving a trail to the bedroom. They had woken up late the next morning and ventured out for brunch before heading to MetLife Stadium for a Giants game. She had never been to a pro game and had loved every second of it, even as Damon networked and guided a client through the press room.

Leaving him had been hard. He had driven her to La Guardia and a scene similar to the one in Charlottesville had played out. She had let her tears fall once she left him to go through security, even though he promised her he would be in Mystic Falls soon. She had gone back to her real life the next day, working on her book and writing for local publications, helping Caroline plan her wedding and the upcoming town festival. They had had a sleepover the night Caroline had told her and Bonnie Tyler had accepted the job where they had too much wine and ate too much junk food. It had all been very ordinary. Except she had a boyfriend now.

Damon had blown into town twelve days after she left him in New York, not that she had been counting. He was only there for four days and had spent some of it at the mill, learning more about the business and getting to know the employees. The rest of the time, he had been with her. All too soon, though, she was putting him back on a plane and it hadn't been any easier, especially as there had been no definitive plans on when they would see one another again.

She was ready to go to New York. It was her turn, she figured. All she needed was for Damon to confirm he would be in town as he had done a bit of traveling over the last few weeks for work. And for Damon to confirm that, she needed him to answer the phone.

Yawning widely, she went through the house and turned off lights, making sure her doors were locked as she went. She checked her phone one more time as she climbed into bed, just in case she had missed a text or an email, even a phone call somehow. There was nothing. She turned off her lamp and within minutes, fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p>It was absurdly early, Damon decided, as he blindly groped for his phone to shut off the alarm that had interrupted his deep slumber. He rolled over in bed, reaching for the warmth that should have been there, only for his arm to fall on cold sheets. He groaned, remembering he was in New York and Elena was not. Knowing she was an early bird, and feeling guilty that he hadn't been able to talk to her as much as he wanted to as of late, he rolled back over and found his phone again.<p>

"Morning," he mumbled when her sleepy voice came across the line. "Did I actually wake you?"

"I was asleep," Elena confirmed. "Late night writing." He thought he heard a note of annoyance in her voice, but chalked it up to waking her so early.

"Were you writing about me?" he asked before checking the time. He could swing about 10 minutes of lying in bed with his girl on the phone before he had to get into the shower to start his day.

"I've barely talked to you this week," she replied. "I've forgotten what you sound like, let alone what you look like."

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "It's been a crazy week. All I've done is go to meetings, take conference calls and send emails."

On her end of the line, Elena made a choice. It was no secret that Damon was running at full throttle. His sports agent career kept him on the go and sent him all over the country as it was. He was also trying to keep the mill up and running while doing things like eating and sleeping when he could. Then there was the matter of getting used to the idea of being half of a couple, an infinitely harder transition for him than for her. She had never been the clingy type and she decided she wasn't going to start now.

"It's okay," she said, sitting up in bed and pulling the comforter with her. "I know you've got a lot on your plate right now."

"I've been thinking of nothing but you," Damon told her smoothly, which was true. It was amazing how often Elena penetrated his thoughts. "I reached for you this morning, but I got a handful of cold sheets instead." Elena smiled at the thought of him reaching for her.

"I've been thinking maybe I could come up for a visit in the next few days. I know you have to work, but I can spend the days writing, shopping, visiting some of my old friends that still live in the city. And then at night…" she trailed off suggestively.

"How soon can you get here?" Damon half groaned, his mind already going to places involving Elena, a variety of surfaces and no clothing.

"Day after tomorrow, if I can find a later flight," she said. "I have a committee meeting for the Halloween thing that morning." Damon thought over his schedule before letting out another groan.

"I'm flying to Cleveland the day after that," he said. "I'll be there about six hours and then I'm heading down to Knoxville to meet with a senior linebacker at Tennessee who will be entering the draft. I'll be back the next day, but then I've got to head up to Pittsburg for a game. Can you come up Monday?" Elena didn't have to look at her schedule to know she couldn't.

"It's the week of the Halloween festival," she reminded him. "I'll be helping Caroline most of the week. She's freaking out, between Halloween, the wedding and now, moving. And she's determined to continue planning every event Mystic Falls is having from now to eternity, so she's working on Thanksgiving and Christmas plans too."

"Well, I'll be in Mystic Falls for the Halloween festival," Damon reminded her. "I was planning to fly into DC on Friday, meet up with Harper, and then drive us both down, get there that evening. But I might be able to swing flying into Charlottesville a day early. Harper can handle traveling three hours by himself."

"So, I have to wait another week and a half to see you?" Elena asked. She tried to sound like she was making light of the situation when really, she was disappointed.

"Looks like it," Damon said, his own disappointment apparent. "I'm sorry, Elena."

"It's okay," she said almost automatically, realizing that was the second time in mere minutes that she had simply let something go with an 'it's okay.' "Thing we can fit some Skype time into that jam packed schedule of yours?" Damon sighed.

"Don't be like that," he said. He pushed himself up and swung his legs over the bed. Elena frowned.

"Like what?" she asked, genuinely confused. She had only wanted to hang up knowing she would talk to him again soon instead of days later.

"'Fit some Skype time into that jam packed schedule,'" Damon repeated. "I know I'm busy right now, Elena, but there is no need to refer to yourself as a business meeting to get my attention." Elena's frown deepened.

"I wasn't," she told him. "I was suggesting we Skype soon, see each other that way if we can't fit in a visit before you come down to Mystic Falls for Halloween. Don't jump to a conclusion that isn't there, Damon." She heard Damon sigh again.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, realizing he had taken Elena's turn of phrase wrong. He had had fleeting thoughts over the last couple of days of Elena being upset with him for his lack of communication and if he were honest with himself, had been looking for some sign of distain on her end. He hadn't been looking to pick a fight, exactly, but had gone on the defense out of self-preservation and for no reason at all. "I'm still waking up and I didn't get much sleep last night," he explained. I'm a little cranky this morning."

"You don't say," Elena quipped, drawing a short chuckle out of Damon. He looked at the time and frowned.

"I should go," he said and Elena could hear the reluctance in his voice. "I need to take a shower and meet up with Enzo's publicist for breakfast to discuss more damage control."

"Call me later?" Elena asked.

"I promise," Damon said. "I miss you, Elena." Something about the way he said it nearly broke her heart.

"I miss you too," she said. "But we'll talk again soon and you will be here before we know it."

"There's that blind optimism," Damon said, pushing himself off the bed to a standing position. "I'm sorry I haven't been around this week. It's just been a little more crazed than usual. But I'll talk to you tonight, okay?"

"Promise?" Elena replied.

"Promise," Damon confirmed. "I'll talk to you soon."

* * *

><p>Caroline's eyes narrowed as she watched Elena pick up her phone for the third time in the last quarter hour. She narrowed them even more when Elena frowned and let the phone fall to the sofa.<p>

"Okay," she said, having bit her tongue for the last hour. "What's going on?"

"What?" Elena asked.

"What's going on?" Caroline repeated. "You've checked that phone and then dropped it like a hot potato a dozen times this evening." She continued working with her Cricut machine to cut letters and shapes for banners for the Halloween festival.

"It's nothing," Elena said with a shake of her head as she glued an orange 'H' to a black triangle.

"Damon?" Caroline guessed. She had gotten the feeling things were a little strained between them over the last couple of days.

"It's nothing," Elena said again.

"Elena, it's me," Caroline reminded her. Elena sighed.

"It's really nothing," she said. "It's just… This long distance thing is hard."

"I know," Caroline nodded. "Tyler and I broke up after senior year so we didn't have to try it while we were in college, remember?" Elena gave her a pointed look.

"You're not really helping."

"Sorry," Caroline said with a guilty smile. "Guessing you haven't heard from Damon today?" Elena shook her head.

"He's in Pittsburg," she said. "At least I think that's where he is. He's been all over the eastern third of country in the last couple of weeks. It's been hard to find time to talk. I… Well… I miss him."

"I know you do," Caroline said. "But he'll be here in another couple of days, right?"

"He's supposed to be," Elena said with a hint of doubt. "I just hope nothing comes up that keeps him from getting on a plane headed to Charlottesville. That seems to be the way of the world lately. He called me a few mornings ago, promised he would call that evening, and then texted late that night to say he'd gotten caught up in a dinner meeting. I've barely talked to him since, save for a text here, an email there."

"He'll be here," Caroline said confidently. "And then you'll make the rest of us sick, making out and being all lovey dovey. That is, of course, assuming the two of you make it out of the bedroom during his visit. Which makes this a good time for me to tell you I expect you to be present and accounted for at the Halloween festival, no matter how hot your boyfriend is."

"Caroline, I think you might be the one person I know who mentions sex more often than Damon," Elena told her.

"Have you seen your boyfriend?" Caroline asked. "I love Tyler and he's not exactly unfortunate looking, but good Lord, Damon is gorgeous." Elena just laughed and shook her head.

"Have you told your mom about Tyler's job offer yet?" she asked, changing the subject. She didn't want to talk about Damon. When she did get to talk to him, he was full of apologies for his silence and she always forgave him, let him off the hook. She wasn't worried about him being with another woman or anything like that. She was, however, starting to worry about how their relationship was going to survive the distance. Caroline nodded in response to her question.

"She took it as well as Liz Forbes takes anything," she said. "Stoically on the surface, hurt underneath, passive aggressive on all fronts."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Elena said, knowing Caroline liked to be dramatic.

"It wasn't," Caroline admitted. "She was actually really happy for Tyler. I just envisioned her breaking down and crying her eyes out and begging me to stay. And then she didn't. Her only daughter – her only child – is moving far, far away and she offers to take us out for a celebratory dinner."

"You're just moving to Richmond," Elena reminded her, somewhat amused. "Not another country."

"Tyler and I actually worked out a deal," Caroline told her. "We're looking at houses halfway between Richmond and Mystic Falls. It'll be a bit of a commute for us both, about forty-five minutes to Richmond and forty-five minutes to here, but it's what's best for us for now."

"That's great, Care!" Elena said happily. "See? This is all going to work out just fine."

"I'm starting to get a little excited," Caroline confessed. "We're getting a _house _Elena. A real house. That I can decorate. This little apartment is great, but a _house? _That we get to live in as a married couple? That's exciting." Elena laughed. It seemed Tyler knew exactly what to do to get Caroline on board with his new job.

"Will there be a housewarming party?" she asked.

"Duh," Caroline scoffed. "And a moving party too so get ready for that."

"I can hardly wait," Elena said dryly. She would, of course, help Caroline move – that was the kind of things best friends did – but she knew how obsessive she could be and wasn't looking forward to a day or more Caroline labeling boxes and barking orders.

"I'll supply the pizza and beer. It'll be a blast, promise!" Elena was saved from making a sarcastic comment by the ringing of her phone. She grinned as she saw who was on the other end of the Facetime call. "Damon?" Caroline guessed. Elena nodded as she swiped her finger across the phone's screen.

"Hi," she said, holding the phone out and away from her face so Damon could see her.

"Hey, beautiful," Damon replied, grinning on his end. Elena could tell he was in a hotel room. She also saw that he looked tired.

"Hi, Damon!" Caroline chimed in, leaning against Elena so she could see Damon as well. Damon looked surprised to see the blonde.

"Barbie," he said with a nod. "Nice to see you."

"Nice to hear from you," Caroline said with a nod. "Elena was getting impatient."

"Okay," Elena said, standing. "Damon, hang on while I go somewhere a little quieter. Care, you keep cutting out those letters. I'll be right back." She glared at Caroline as she exited the room, earning a smirk from her friend. She made her way down the hall to Caroline's second bedroom turned makeshift office for both her and Tyler, shut the door behind her, and sat down on the overstuffed leather desk chair before lifting her phone back to a height where she could see Damon again.

"There she is," Damon said when Elena reappeared in his screen. "Tell Caroline she needs to vacuum. Her floors look like they have never been properly acquainted with a Dirt Devil."

"I'll pass it along," Elena said with a smile. "So, where are you? Pittsburg?"

"Pittsburg," Damon confirmed. "Got in a little bit ago, decided to call my girl before I get down to work."

"Work?" Elena asked. She glanced at the clock hanging above Tyler's desk. "It's almost ten o'clock. You look like you could stand to be headed to bed right now instead of working some more."

"I've got too much to do to sleep," Damon told her. "We've got a full day of press events and visiting children's hospitals before the big Monday Night Football game. I've got to get some stuff done for the mill at some point. I've hardly given it a second thought in the last week."

"I worry about you," Elena replied. "And I'm also trying to figure out how you had time to cause as much trouble as you did before you met me if you were as busy then as you are now." Damon grinned.

"I didn't cause trouble," he said. "I was just having a little bit of fun."

"And now you don't have fun?"

"Oh I have plenty of fun," Damon drawled. "Just with you, in a bed… In fact, we could have some fun right now…"

"Now a chance," she said with a shake of her head, although she was smiling. "I'm at Caroline's, remember? We've got ten, maybe fifteen, minutes before she barges in and demands I return my attention to her and we've already used at least three."

"I only need five…"

"Damon."

"Fine," Damon relented with a smirk. "But just so you know, I don't plan on doing much sleeping this weekend."

"I don't plan on letting you," Elena countered. "Which goes completely against my lecture about you needing to get some sleep."

"You're worth every lost wink," Damon told her. She smiled at him as his face grew serious. "You okay, Elena?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Elena said, frowning slightly. "Why?"

"Caroline mentioned you getting impatient," he reminded her. "I'm guessing that's related to the fact that we haven't had a lot of phone time lately?"

"Caroline is just being Caroline," Elena said with a shake of her head. "I told her I missed you and she ran with it." Damon wasn't quite buying her explanation.

"You sure that's it?" he asked. "I know I've been busy, Elena. We haven't talked as much as either of us would like and we haven't seen each other in several weeks. It's not just hard on you, this being apart thing. I miss you too."

"I know you do," Elena said. She smiled at him softly. "I'm proud of you, Damon." He looked confused.

"You're what?"

"Proud of you," Elena repeated. "You've taken on a lot of added responsibility. You're handling it well. Or at least, well enough. I wish you'd sleep more, but I guess that's a moot point."

"I'm just doing what I have to do," Damon said with a modest shrug of his shoulders. Elena shook her head. She knew Damon didn't hear people tell him they were proud of him often, if ever. He didn't even have a boss to look up to as he was the boss. She knew too that he was working hard and wanted him to know she appreciated what he was doing.

"I wish I had this on tape," she told him. "Damon Salvatore, being modest." Damon chuckled.

"Look what you're doing to me," he replied. "You've got me going all soft."

"Weren't you just bragging a couple of days ago about how you closed that deal for Harper with Mr. Jameson?" she reminded him. His cocky smirk appeared almost instantly.

"I owe you something shiny for that," he said. "His wife is still raving about you."

"I am your better half," Elena teased.

"Far better half," Damon agreed. "But enough about me. Tell me what you did today."

For the next half hour, Elena had Damon's full attention, talking about anything and everything, whatever she had thought of since she had last talked to him that she had wanted to tell him. He listened as though she were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"So you'll be here Thursday evening, right?" Elena asked, confirming Damon's flight itinerary.

"My plane lands in Charlottesville at eight o'clock," Damon confirmed. "And I'm assuming a hot brunette will be there to pick me up?"

"I thought I might send Caroline," Elena ventured, teasing him.

"Don't you dare," Damon growled, making Elena laugh.

"I'll be there," she said. "I can't wait."

"Me either," Damon admitted. "And you're about to hang up on me, aren't you?" Elena smiled guiltily.

"I'm shocked Caroline hasn't burst in already," she said. "I should get back to helping her with the Halloween decorations. And you did say you have some work to do before you can finally get some sleep."

"If you must," Damon said. "Call me tomorrow?"

"I will," Elena said, pushing down the pang of doubt she felt at the idea of him actually answering when she did. She said goodbye to Damon and ended the Facetime call, feeling lighter. She made her way back to Caroline's living room, a smile on her face that Caroline didn't miss.

"Amazing what a phone call from a boy will do for one's soul," she said.

"I'm surprised you let me talk so long," Elena replied, settling back on the couch and picking up the pieces to the banner she had been working on when Damon called. "I expected you to barge in and demand I return to work ten minutes into our call."

"I figured you deserved to talk to the guy for a bit," Caroline said. "Given that he did get _the _Harper James to come to our festival and all."

"So you're just using me for my connections," Elena said, grinning.

"Something like that," Caroline replied before the two burst out laughing. They continued working, churning out banners and moving on to centerpieces. Elena's phone rang out again, interrupting Caroline's story about one of the clients she was working with to plan a 50th wedding anniversary party. "Someone's popular tonight," she said as Elena picked up her phone.

"It's Rebekah," Elena replied as she answered her phone. "Hey, Bex."

"Elena, hi!" Rebekah said on her end. Elena could tell she was driving. "Sorry it's a bit late. I'm heading over to Stefan's apartment from a work event and only just got a chance to call. I have a favor to ask."

"Of course."

"I've got this alumni fundraising thing I have to go to in Roanoke on Wednesday. It'll run sort of late and I don't really want to stay in Roanoke overnight, but I think I'll be too tired to drive all the way back. You're about halfway between there and Charlottesville – would you mind terribly if I crashed at your place for the night?"

"Absolutely," Elena said. "My spare bedroom is all yours."

"Oh, I'll take the couch," Rebekah replied. Elena listened as she let out a curse word directed at a pedestrian that opted against using a proper crosswalk. "I'll be late and then I'll have to get up and leave pretty early to get to Charlottesville for work, but I'd be so appreciative if I could just catch a few hours of shut eye at your place."

"Couch, bedroom, up to you," Elena said. "About what time do you think you'll get there?"

"Late," Rebekah said again. "I'd say somewhere around midnight. You happen to have a spare key you'd be willing to reveal the location of? I promise I'm not a serial killer or anything of the sort."

"It's on the ledge above my window on the right side of the door," Elena said.

"Perfect. I'll see you Wednesday!"

"Wednesday," Elena agreed. She hung up the phone a few minutes later, still smiling. While seeing her friend on Wednesday would be great, it was her boyfriend's Thursday arrival she truly couldn't wait for.

* * *

><p>"What?" Damon snapped into his phone.<p>

"About damn time," replied Stefan. "I've been calling you for days."

"I'm busy," Damon told him. "In fact, I'm busy right now. I'm about to walk into a meeting that I can guarantee is more important than anything you're calling me for. But seeing as you have called four times straight, I'm rolling the dice and hoping you're going to prove me wrong."

"I figured if I called enough times in a row, you might get annoyed enough to pick up," Stefan shot back. He knew it was a childish move, hitting redial over and over until his brother answered, but he needed to talk to him and if leaving voice messages, sending text messages and using Elena as a carrier didn't work, he had to try another option.

"You have two minutes. Literally just two minutes."

"When are you coming home?" Stefan asked, wasting no time. He could hear the sounds of traffic in the background and knew Damon was serious when he gave a two minute timeframe. "The mill…"

"I don't know," Damon cut him off. "I'm busy, Stefan. It's football season. I can't just drop everything and fly down to Mystic Falls to sit around a table with a bunch of old men who would rather shoot the breeze than discuss the meeting agenda."

"The mill needs your attention too," Stefan said. "You nearly missed signing off on payroll again. And open enrollment is coming up. There's a tax payment…"

"Do you want to run the damn thing?" Damon asked, cutting him off again. He tapped his foot impatiently as he stood at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. He checked his watch and saw that he had a full three minutes to make it to his lunch meeting on time.

"I'm just saying…" Another thought occurred to Damon, causing him to cut Stefan off yet again.

"You're checking up on me," he accused. "What? Don't trust me to not run the place into the ground?"

"I wasn't checking up on you," Stefan said, on the defense. "I ran into Pete at the grocery store. We got to talking…"

"And he told you your big brother was dropping the ball," Damon finished.

"He didn't say that. He's just been around a long time, takes pride in his job…"

"I've got it under control," Damon said. "I'll be down for a few days during the Halloween festival. I'm going to put in some time at the mill then. And for the record, that tax payment was made yesterday. My accountant took care of it. So go ahead and report that back to Pete. Let him know too that his next paycheck will be on time and maybe remind him I have the power to fire him while you're at it." Stefan sighed.

"The mill is our family legacy," he reminded Damon. "The people that work there don't have trust funds to fall back on. They depend on their paychecks every two weeks."

"No, the mill is Dad's legacy," Damon argued as he darted across the street. "I'm just stuck with it for another few months."

"Damon, you can't just put a for sale sign on it in six months…"

"Sorry, little brother," Damon said, continuing his streak of not letting Stefan get a word in. "Got to go. Got a meeting that could make me a tidy sum before dinnertime. But do me a favor. Two, actually. Keep your nose out of the mill. And if you see my girlfriend, tell her hello for me."

Damon hung up and paused on the sidewalk outside of the restaurant to adjust his jacket and slip his phone back in his pocket. He took a deep breath and blew it out, both to prepare himself for his meeting and to shake his conversation with Stefan. The mill was a priority, but it would have to wait. He had an endorsement deal to close. And, he thought with a pang as he put on his most charming smile and entered the restaurant, a girlfriend he needed to see, soon.

* * *

><p><strong>So, real life is starting to sink in for our favorite couple. Distance is hard. Damon is living hard. Elena is trying not to be the clingy, needy girlfriend, even though she really just wants her boyfriend to call her more often... But at least there's the Halloween festival to look forward to! <strong>

**Let me know what you thought!**


	20. Surprise

**I think your comments and reviews last chapter were some of my favorites yet. I'm aiming to write as realistic of a story as I can and I love that you all seem to appreciate that - thank you so much for commenting and letting me know what you think so far! **

**I _really _enjoyed some of the Rebekah speculation as well... :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries. **

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><p>Elena awoke with a gasp. She sat bolt upright in bed and listened, her ears straining for the sound she was sure she hadn't dreamed.<p>

She heard it again.

Someone was on her front porch. Her heartbeat quickened.

Just as she started to scramble out of bed in search of something – anything – she could use to protect herself, she remembered it was Rebekah who had called earlier to say she was running even later than expected and not to bother waiting up. She laid back down, blowing out a relieved breath as she heard her front door open and close quietly. She was already starting to drift back to sleep when a shadow fell across her doorway.

"Hey, Bex," she mumbled without rolling over to face her. She paid no mind to the fact that the footsteps, heavier than they should have been for Rebekah, were making their way towards her bed, confident it was her friend and no one else. Her eyes popped open as the side of her bed sunk down. Her sleepy brain finally put the pieces together, telling her that whoever was in her home wasn't Rebekah. "What…" she started, kicking her legs furiously in an effort to untangle herself from her blankets, her flight or fight instincts kicking in.

"It's just me," came a voice that made her heart skip a beat as a pair of strong arms encircled her. A moment later, she was pulled against a familiar well-defined chest, a pair of lips leaving a warm kiss on her cheek. "It's just me."

"Damon?" she breathed in surprise, turning in his arms. Even in the dark, his blue eyes were vivid. Her own eyes widened in surprise. "Damon!" she scrambled into a seated position, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. She reached for the lamp and soft light flooded the room.

Damon Salvatore was lying on her bed, dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt, his leather jacket and black boots still on, his hair messy. He looked tired but happy, even as he blinked his eyes rapidly in order to adjust to the sudden brightness.

"Hey," he said with a smirk. He felt his breath hitch when he realized Elena was wearing his t-shirt which she had claimed during her last night in New York. He was sure that faded Redskins tee had never looked better.

"What… You… How… What are you doing here?" Elena asked, shaking her head, confused as she continued to take in the sight of Damon before her. "You're not supposed to be here until tomorrow night. And Rebekah is on her way…" She had no idea why she mentioned Rebekah, but she was confused by Damon's sudden appearance and Rebekah felt important to the moment for some reason.

"Surprise," Damon said slyly, propping himself up on his elbow. He reached out and cupped her check with his other hand, pulling her down to him so he could kiss her. "And for the record, the Brit isn't coming."

"What?" Elena asked. She kissed Damon again, still not quite believing he was there, in her bed, even as she felt his kiss down to the tips of her toes.

"Bex isn't coming," he said. "I put her up to doing me a favor. I wanted to surprise you."

"A favor?" Elena repeated. She shook her head as Damon's hand drifted along her cheek and then tangled in her hair. "I'm confused."

"You were so disappointed when we couldn't work it out for you to visit me week before last," he reminded her. "And we haven't been able to talk much lately. I moved some things around so I could get here a little earlier."

"You're really here," Elena stated as Damon's hand brushed through her hair. "You're here, in my bed."

"I am," Damon confirmed. "Really, Elena, catch up. You're having a hard time seeing and believing." Elena shook her head as though to shake off the disbelief.

"You surprised me," she confirmed, a smile forming as she placed her hand on his chest. "I'm so surprised that my mind hasn't caught up to the fact that you're really here." She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Damon made to pull her down to him, but she pulled herself back. "Wait," she said. "What does Rebekah have to do with any of this?"

"I knew you probably had a spare key around here somewhere and I needed the location of it. I didn't want to scare you, so I put Rebekah up to pretending like she needed a place to sleep and asking about a key. Caroline would have sung like a canary and ruined my surprise. And speaking of that key, we're going to need to discuss your hiding place. Above the window? That could not be more obvious, Elena."

"Bex was extremely believable," Elena confirmed.

"She was also surprisingly easy to convince to help me," Damon said. "I was ready to barter, but she agreed without incident. My guess? She wants to stay in my brother's good graces."

"It would take a lot for her to fall out of Stefan's good graces," Elena said. "But enough about Rebekah. I'm glad you're here, Damon."

"Me too," Damon replied with a soft smile. "Come here."

He tugged on Elena's arms and brought her crashing down on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her and groaned as she kissed him deeply, her tongue playing coyly with his as the kiss deepened. He rolled over so she was pinned beneath him.

"God, I'm happy to see you," he said before kissing her again. He let himself indulge in the feel of her lips against his for a few more minutes before he pulled back, placed one quick, soft kiss on her cheek, and then sat up.

"What time is it?" Elena asked, stifling a yawn.

"After two in the morning," Damon replied, shrugging out of his jacket. He tossed it towards a nearby chair and then went to work removing his boots. "I was supposed to be here two hours ago, but my flight was delayed. Hence Rebekah's phone call that she was running later than expected. Seems she and I make a well-oiled, surprise-planning machine." His boots hit the floor with two loud thumps. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, sending it in the direction of his jacket.

"You must be exhausted," Elena said as her eyes raked over his chiseled body. She wondered when he found time to fit in his workouts, but was _almost _willing to give up a phone call or two if it meant she got to look at those abs.

"I'm a little tired," he admitted. He stood and unbuckled his belt, then made swift work of getting out of his jeans. When he was down to nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, he slipped back into bed next to Elena.

"Make yourself at home," she said with a smirk, still sitting up on her side of the bed.

"I'm with you," Damon replied easily. "So I am home."

"You and those words," Elena stated with a bit of a blush. She reached over and turned off the lamp before she laid down next to him. She tucked herself into his side, her head on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and held her tight.

"This feels so good," Damon said, a hand lazily trailing up and down Elena's back. "You, me, a bed. All is right in the world."

"I still can't believe you're here." Damon kissed the top of her hair.

"I'm here," Damon confirmed. "And I still can't believe you're mine."

He rolled onto his side and spooned Elena, amazed as always with how well she fit him. She let out a content sigh and wiggled a bit to get even closer. Damon closed his eyes and listened to Elena's breathing as it evened out. She was asleep within minutes.

This, he realized, was everything he had been missing in the last few weeks. He had gone about his life as he normally would have, the only real difference being that instead of chasing women and drinking expensive liquor into the early morning hours after a day of wheeling and dealing, he was holed up in his apartment, working remotely to keep the mill up and running or else playing catch up from where he had to take time out of his day for a conference call with the mill employees. But as normal as it had all been, it hadn't felt right, not without Elena.

A sense of guilt settled over him as Elena let out a content sigh in her sleep. He needed to be a better boyfriend, he realized. He was doing okay, or at least he thought he was, but he needed to be better about taking the time to call Elena, send her a text just to let her know he was thinking about her, block out some time in his schedule so she could come to New York and he actually be there. He needed her to know how much he cared, how much he wanted this to work between them. With his eyes still closed, he placed a ghost of a kiss on her shoulder and finally let himself drift off to sleep.

* * *

><p>"When one takes a red eye flight to see their girlfriend they haven't seen in a month, one expects to not wake up to an empty bed."<p>

Elena turned in her Adirondack chair to watch Damon as he made his way down the dock. She smiled, drinking in the scene of him as he approached her, wearing a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips and a long sleeve t-shirt. His hair was messy and the bags under his eyes, while still present, had faded a bit overnight. He had a mug of coffee in each hand.

"When one's boyfriend takes a red eye flight to see their girlfriend they haven't seen in a month and that girlfriend knows her boyfriend hasn't been getting much sleep, she lets him sleep in," she replied.

"You should have slept in with me," he countered. "Coffee?"

"Please," Elena said, placing the book she was reading aside and taking one of the mugs from him. "I finished my first cup an hour ago." Damon leaned down and kissed the top of her head before he settled into the chair next to hers and rolled his shoulders to loosen them from a good night's sleep, the first one he had had in ages. He took in the surroundings for a few moments, sipping his coffee as Elena did the same next to him.

The scenery was stunning. The trees around the lake looked like they were on fire, the leaves vivid shades or orange, red and yellow. Within a week or so, Damon knew they would be bare, all the leaves dropping to the ground practically overnight, but for now, they were beautiful, mixed in with the pine trees, their images reflected on the surface of the lake. The sky was a crystal clear blue, the air cool and crisp.

"It's beautiful out here," Damon said. "And quiet," he added as an after thought.

"It's my favorite time of year," Elena told him. She too was dressed down, wearing a pair of yoga pants and a long sleeve Columbia shirt. "How did you sleep?"

"With you," Damon replied with a smirk. Elena rolled her eyes. "I slept well," he said. "In fact, it was the best sleep I've had since you left New York."

"I still can't believe you're here," Elena said again. Damon didn't reply. Instead, he placed his coffee aside, stood up and approached Elena. He took her own mug of coffee and placed it on the table between their chairs, then grasped her hands and pulled her to her feet.

"Good morning," he told her as his arms wrapped around her.

"Good morning," Elena replied, her arms winding around his neck. He leaned down as she stood on her tiptoes, their lips meeting. Their kiss quickly turned from sweet and innocent to something much more passionate, Damon's hands drifting as Elena's tangled in his hair to hold him to her. They were both breathless when they finally pulled away.

"You're getting good at those proper good mornings," Damon teased. He sat back down in the chair, pulling Elena with him so she was sitting in his lap. He handed her her coffee and picked up his own mug. "What are you reading?" he asked. Elena looked a bit guilty as she reached for the book she had abandoned when Damon appeared. _"Gone With The Wind," _Damon stated with a grin of his own as she read the cover. "Good choice."

"I thought you may approve," Elena said. "Rhett just helped Scarlett and Melanie escape the Yankees. But the asshole abandoned them to go off and join the Confederacy." Damon chuckled.

"Sounds like you've got strong feelings about that," he said with a smirk. The burning of Atlanta was one of his favorite parts of the book, but he could see why Elena would think it was terrible that Rhett had a change of heart and abandoned the women on their way to Tara. She would be swept up in the romance of the story while he was drawn to the themes of brute willpower to overcome adversity throughout the book.

"You just don't abandon two women in the middle of a burning city," Elena stated. "And Melanie just had a baby! And to make it all the worse, he had the nerve to kiss Scarlett like that and then just leave!" Damon laughed.

"He's fighting for what he believes in," he argued. "And he's fighting for Scarlett." Elena looked at him with disbelief.

"I'll give you that he's fighting for what he believes in," she said. "But I refuse to agree that he's fighting for Scarlett."

"He loves Scarlett," Damon said. "And he knows she scorns the men she wins easily. So he refuses to be won."

"That's ridiculous."

"It's true." Elena shook her head in disagreement and leaned back against Damon.

"You never told me why _Gone With The Wind _is your favorite book," she said thoughtfully. "At the end of our first date, you said you would need a second date to tell me why it's your favorite. We've been on quite a few dates since then." Damon picked up her hand and laced his fingers through hers.

"I was fourteen the first time I read it," he told her. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"You read that book at fourteen?" she interrupted. She was a voracious reader at that age as well, but she was plowing through young adult fiction and the occasional book of poems, not stories about the Old South that were nearly a 1,000 pages long.

"Not like I had much else going on," Damon said. "Couldn't drive yet, at least not legally, didn't play sports, wasn't in any clubs. So I sat around in the library and read my mom's books." Elena felt her heart squeeze. She had only been inside the Salvatore library a few times, but she could imagine a young Damon lounging in one of the high back armchairs, a book in hand as the afternoon sun dropped from the sky.

"You really are full of surprises," she stated, earning a chuckle from Damon.

"Even then, I saw myself in Rhett Butler," he told her. "But the likeness came a lot more apparent as I got older and really understood what I was reading. He's this dark, dashing man, disowned by his family, no formal education. But he makes his own way, even if it's not exactly legitimate. He sees through hypocrisy and self-delusion. He doesn't let people get too close, keeps his heart guarded. I get him. His actions make sense to me. If I was alive in the 1860s, I'd probably be him."

Elena was silent for a few minutes. In hindsight, she should have seen why Damon loved the book. He was, most definitely, a modern Rhett Butler. Like Rhett, he was handsome and scandalous with a devil may care attitude. While Damon's family hadn't disowned him in the way Rhett's had, his relationship with his father and brother had been strained his whole life and like Rhett, Damon had loved his mother deeply. Damon too had the ability to see through people, to call them out and cut them down to size. And he did it with little concern about consequences.

And then there was their similarities in education. Throughout _Gone With The Wind, _Rhett, who had been kicked out of West Point and had no formal higher education, quoted Shakespeare and philosophers, proving he was an intellect in spite of his circumstances. Damon had barely graduated high school and had only set foot on a college campus if it involved bedding a co-ed, but he knew literature and history and judging by his business savviness, could hold his own in the realm of numbers as well.

And then there was her.

She was no Scarlett O'Hara, of that she was sure, but Damon was guarded and jaded when it came to relationships and often surprised her with his bluntness and his gift to see through her, challenge her, just like Rhett did with Scarlett. Damon _was _Rhett Butler, right down to how he adapted himself to reality but still clung, however loosely, to ideals from the past. She just hoped their story ended better than Scarlett and Rhett's. She took the fact that she wasn't hung up on another man like Scarlett was to be a good sign.

"Shall I start calling you Rhett?" she asked finally.

"As similar as we are, I wouldn't leave you on the outskirts of a burning Atlanta to go off and join the war," Damon told her. "I would at least see you to safety first." Elena laughed and laid her head back on his shoulder.

"So, what's your plan for today?" she asked him.

"Well, at some point, likely very soon, I'm going to take you inside and have my way with you," he told her bluntly, a hand sliding suggestively along her thigh. "And at another point, likely after lunch, but certainly before dinner, I'm going to stop by the mill, put in a few hours. And then tonight, I'm hoping I can convince you to let me take you to dinner in Charlottesville. It goes without saying that I'll be sleeping next to you tonight, whether that's here or at the Boarding House."

"Can I pick the restaurant?" Elena asked.

"Name it."

"Bang," Elena said instantly. "It's this great tapas place downtown. Caroline, Bonnie and I went a couple weeks ago. I think you'll like it."

"Bang it is," Damon said. "You good with staying at the Boarding House tonight?" It struck him how very domestic everything was, sitting with Elena in what was as good as their pajamas, drinking coffee and planning out their day. He liked it, being part of a couple that worked like that. With Katherine, he had usually been told where to be and when to be there. With Elena, he felt like he had an opinion, even when he was differing to her.

"I was planning to stay there anyway," she told him. "I _was _planning to pick up my boyfriend – who I haven't seen in weeks – at the airport tonight and I didn't exactly plan on dropping him off at the curb."

"That's my girl," Damon growled. He made sure Elena didn't have her coffee mug in her hand and then stood, Elena, cradled in his arms, letting out a surprised shriek at the sudden change. "Let's get you inside. You're wearing too many clothes."

* * *

><p><strong>That Rebekah... She's sneaky. Well played, Bex and Damon, well played. <strong>

**_Gone With The Wind _is one of my very favorite books. The movie doesn't do it justice. There's an episode of Vampire Diaries where the book is shown prominently on Damon's nightstand and I believe that was because of his likenesses to Rhett Butler. Damon is very much like him, both in my story and on the show. Now I want to go read that book yet again. All 1,000 or so pages of it. **

**Let me know what you think!**


	21. Labor

**So I got so caught up in writing that I forgot about updating! But at least I have the next several updates all penned and ready? :) **

**I'm glad so many of you were so surprised by Rebekah and Damon's plotting - that was my hope. Damon needed to get his butt to Mystic Falls - may as well do it big, right? Thank you so so so so much for reading and reviewing each chapter! **

**I think you might like this one... **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

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><p>Damon rubbed his temples as he listened to Roseanne, the office manager of Salvatore Timber, bend his ear about ordering office supplies and a desire to change internet providers. She had been going on for at least fifteen minutes about the dwindling supply of pencils and staples and how unreliable their current internet connection was, especially on rainy days. She had already commandeered thirty minutes to inform him of all the comings and goings of the mill employees, who had been late several days this quarter, who wanted vacation days and just how on earth were they going to figure out the holiday schedule this year? He had determined nails on a chalkboard would be more pleasant than listening to her for a moment longer.<p>

Before being cornered by Roseanne, he had spent an hour with the one and only human resource manager employed by Salvatore Timber. She had shown him document after document that he didn't understand about health insurance and retirement plans and apparently, he needed to hire someone to manage something that had to do with the shipping yard because they were severely shorthanded. She too had a fixation on vacation days and holiday schedules.

"I know you live in New York, but Mr. Salvatore, there has got to be a better way of doing things," Roseanne continued, smacking her desk for emphasis. "I need paperclips for the invoices and then we staple them to the order forms and there are the work orders…"

"You need office supplies, I got it," Damon said, holding a hand up in hopes of silencing her. "Tell you what, fill out an order while I go out and talk to Pete. I'll take it with me and review it tonight and sign off on it tomorrow. Does that work for you?"

"I guess that will have to," Roseanne replied. She was already pulling out a piece of notebook paper where she had been keeping track of her list of demands.

"Good. And for the last time, call me Damon. Mr. Salvatore was my father."

"Fine, Damon," Roseanne said, not bothering to look up as she scribbled down a few more items she had seemingly just remembered the office needed. "It's just that you look so much like your father…"

"I'll be back in a half hour or so," Damon told her, standing quickly to avoid a trip down memory lane about his father who had been well-loved by the mill employees. He excused himself and went in search of Pete. He found the mill manager in his office which was really no more than a converted storage shed.

"Damon!" the man greeted. "Good to see you around here again, son."

"Pete," Damon greeted, shaking his hand. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You're the boss," the man said with a grin and shake of his head. "You're not interrupting a thing. Except me trying to figure out who gets to be off for Thanksgiving and who gets the week after Christmas."

"Surely there's more going on around here than a vacation schedule," Damon commented, more to himself than Pete.

"Oh, there's plenty," Pete confirmed. "But if I want any of that stuff to get done, I've got to take care of these people."

"Well, let's get the people their holidays," Damon said. Pete missed his sarcasm.

"What can I do you for, Damon?" he asked.

"I'm in town for the weekend, figured I'd get some face time around here, sign some invoices, meet some people." Pete nodded and took in Damon's outfit. His jeans were designer, his boots expensive and the jacket he wore was real leather. Pete was willing to bet the t-shirt under the jacket cost more than his whole outfit, from his Salvatore Timber hat to his broken in steel toe boots.

"How about getting those pretty hands of yours dirty?" he asked. Damon glanced at his has hands quickly.

"Okay?" he said, his agreement coming out as a question. Manual labor wasn't something he was familiar with. Pete nodded, managing to hide his smirk. He reached behind him and picked up a hard hat.

"Put this on," he said, passing it to Damon. He put on a hat of his own and then pulled open a desk drawer. He tossed Damon a set of work gloves and tucked his own pair in his jacket pocket. "And these too." Damon looked skeptical, but did as he was told, trying not to grimace at the feel of the scratchy gloves against his hands.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"Got some boards to load," Pete said, already moving for the door. "Come on, boy. You said you wanted to learn about this mill? This is the best way to do it."

* * *

><p>Damon shut the front door of the Salvatore Boarding House behind him and leaned against it, his muscles aching. He couldn't recall the last time he'd performed manual labor. Growing up, his father had made him and Stefan help around the house, despite the fact they had landscapers and contractors to take care of the place. It "built character" as Giuseppe had been fond of saying. The only character it had built in Damon was the desire to hire someone else to do the work for him, a desire made even stronger by the fact that his father seemed to have had a knack for putting a rake in his hand in the early morning hours of his worst hangovers.<p>

The sound of someone moving around in the kitchen echoed through the large home.

"Elena?" Damon called out, remembering she was supposed to meet him there. He pushed off the door and rolled his shoulders as he made his way towards the kitchen. He heard footsteps and frowned when Stefan appeared, a packaged honey bun in one hand, a can of soda in the other.

"Afraid not," he said. "Sorry to disappoint."

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked.

"Is it even worth saying I live here?" Stefan retorted. Damon shook his head dismissively.

"You know what? I don't care. I'm guessing Elena's not here yet?"

"Did you see her car out front?" Stefan replied, figuring if Damon had come in through the front door, he would have seen Elena's SUV parked in the drive had she been there.

"Shut up," Damon said, heading towards the kitchen, inspired by the site of Stefan's snack to find one of his own. Stefan took in his brother who was covered in a fine layer of sawdust and sweat, his hair messy and not in the on purpose way he usually wore it.

"What happened to you?" he asked, following Damon into the kitchen.

"I put in some time at the mill," Damon said. He opened cabinets until he found the box of honey buns "Pete decided I needed to get my hands dirty. I thought I'd show up, shake some hands, order some damn pens and call it a day. Except I loaded lumber onto trucks for a solid three hours like I was an hourly employee." Stefan choked back a laugh.

"Pete put you to work?" His eyes danced with amusement as he pictured his brother, dressed in expensive labels and used to lifting nothing heavier than an iPad during his workday, stacking lumber into a truck.

"Obviously," Damon scoffed. He sat down on a bar stool, popping the top on the soda he'd found in the fridge. "Who stocked the kitchen?"

"Elena and Caroline." Damon frowned.

"They did?"

"Apparently Harper James is staying here?" Stefan asked.

"Yeah, he'll be here sometime tomorrow," Damon said. He shook his head. "I hadn't even thought about the fact that he might need food. Which is a pretty large oversight, given that he eats like a horse." Another thought occurred to him. "I guess I should make up a guest room for him."

"Elena and Caroline again," Stefan said. "They were here when I got here from the hospital this morning. I'm not sure how they got in, however."

"I gave Elena a key this morning," Damon said dismissively. He checked the time on the microwave clock, wondering where Elena was.

"A key?" Stefan repeated. "You two really are serious." Damon cut him a look.

"She is my girlfriend," he reminded his brother.

"How's that going?" Stefan inquired.

"Well enough."

"Well enough?"

"Why is it I always feel like I'm on an episode of Dr. Phil when I talk to you about anything other than the weather?"

"I just want things to work out for the two of you," Stefan said. "She's good for you. And believe it or not, you're good for her."

"I'm not good for her," Damon said with a shake of his head. "But she is good for me."

"You're a better man than you think you are," Stefan said, sounding older than his 26 years. "You're the only one who doesn't see it." Damon looked at his brother, trying to figure out how to respond. It was easily the nicest thing Stefan had ever said to him. He had just decided to thank him and move on when the front door open and closed.

"Damon?" Elena called.

"Kitchen!" Damon called back, the note of excitement in his voice hard to miss. Stefan grinned and winked at him, causing Damon to grin ever so slightly. Elena appeared a moment later.

"Hey!" she greeted happily. She spied Stefan. "Oh, hey, Stef," she added.

"Elena," Stefan said with a nod. He leaned on the counter, his arms crossed while eating another honey bun. Elena turned back to Damon with the intentions of greeting him with a kiss until she noticed his appearance.

"What happened to you?" she asked, unable to hide the amusement in her voice.

"Pete put me to work," he grumbled. "Sorry, babe, but I'm going to have to take a shower before we head to Charlottesville." He could tell by her appearance that Elena was already dressed and ready to leave for their date.

"I'll agree to that," Elena nodded. "I was going to kiss you until I realized you look like a lumber yard."

"Come here," Damon growled, grabbing for Elena. She let out a shriek as she dodged out of the way. Stefan took another bite from his honey bun as he observed the couple. He wasn't used to seeing his older brother like this, playful and carefree, but he liked it.

"You know, we don't have to go to Charlottesville," Elena said. "It's already after six o'clock and you have clearly had a long day. We can go to The Grill or that Italian place, get some dinner, come back here, hang out…"

"I'm taking you on a date," Damon said stubbornly. "You want tapas, we're going to get tapas."

"We really don't…"

"Elena."

The pair stared at each other for a moment before Elena relented. She did want to go to Bang and a date with Damon was exactly what she needed after spending so much time apart.

"Go shower," she told him. "I'll hang out down here with Stefan."

"Or you could join…"

"Damon."

"Fine," Damon said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'll go shower. Alone." He balled up his wrapper, tossed it into the trash can, and then crossed the room to Elena. "Feel free to reconsider," he said. He wrapped an arm around Elena who tried to dodge him once more and pulled her to him as he passed, leaning down to kiss her sweetly before letting her go. "I'll be back," he said over his shoulder as he walked out of the kitchen, smirking as Elena dusted off the sawdust.

"Who was that guy?" Stefan asked when Damon was out of the room.

"That was Damon," Elena answered. She opened the fridge and helped herself to a soda, then took up Damon's stool. Stefan joined her at the island, settling onto a stool across from her.

"That's not the Damon I grew up with," he commented. "I actually kind of like the one that just left."

"I'm just glad he's here," Elena admitted. "I've missed him."

"I'm sure you've at least talked to him more than I have. I finally got him on the phone last week – for about three whole minutes."

"I talk to him a few days a week," Elena said. "He's so busy. I don't think he ever sleeps."

"He's never been much on sleep," Stefan said. "When we were kids, I'd wake up in the middle of the night, we're talking one, two in the morning, and Damon would be wide awake, usually sitting in the library, reading. When we got older, he was usually sneaking in as the sun came up, but even then, he did a pretty decent job of at least leaving the house when he was supposed to to make it look like he went to school."

"I worry about him," Elena confessed.

"He's got something to prove," Stefan replied with a slight shrug. "He's going to keep going at full throttle until he inevitably slams into the metaphorical wall."

"Something to prove?" Elena repeated. "What? That he can keep several irons in the fire at once and not drop a single one?" Stefan nodded.

"Something like that," he confirmed. "He's spent most of his life thinking he's not good enough. Getting the best clients, landing the best deals, making the most money, not letting the mill crash and burn… That's how Damon proves himself – to himself."

"That's ridiculous." It wasn't that she didn't believe Stefan. It was that she couldn't believe Damon didn't see how good of a man he was, what he had accomplished.

"Ridiculous as it is, it's the truth," Stefan said. "Damon has spent most of his life trying to prove something. When we were kids, he wanted to prove he didn't give a damn. Now, it's all about proving our father was wrong about him."

"Maybe I can talk to him," Elena ventured thoughtfully.

"Good luck with that," Stefan said. "Damon talks more than he hears."

"I'm never getting out of this bed," Elena declared as she burrowed down deeper into the silky sheets of Damon's bed.

"Fine by me," Damon declared. He rolled over and wrapped an arm around Elena, resting his forehead between her shoulder blades. "We'll just stay right here. Grow old and gray. We'll have three square meals a day delivered, eat the leftovers for a snack. Figuring out the whole bathroom and shower thing will be an issue, but we'll deal with that later. Between recovering from all the sex we'll be able to have since we're going to stay in bed for the rest of our lives." Elena laughed.

* * *

><p>"Why is your bed so comfortable?" she asked.<p>

"Because the sheets alone cost more than an average paycheck."

"I'm going to have to get some of these sheets."

"We're never getting out of this bed, remember? No need for that."

It had been nearing eleven o'clock by the time they got home from their date. Both were exhausted, Elena from a day full of last minute festival preparations, Damon from the time he had put in at the mill. They had climbed the stairs, Elena had changed into one of Damon's t-shirts despite the pajamas in the overnight bag she had packed, Damon had stripped down to his boxer briefs, and they had fallen into bed, content to just be together.

"How are those shoulders feeling?" Elena inquired.

"Like I imagine Clayton Kershaw feels after he's pitched six innings," Damon replied.

"Who?"

"Pitcher for the Dodgers," Damon answered. "Son of a bitch signed with Trevor over me."

"Bitter much?"

"Extremely. That kid is only twenty-five years old and has two Cy Young awards."

"Good for him," Elena grumbled sleepily, making Damon laugh as he was sure she had no idea what a Cy Young award was. Then he groaned.

"Rub my shoulders?" he asked. Elena rolled over onto her back, smiling at him. He had been trying to cover up just how sore he was all evening, but she could tell he was growing more uncomfortable as the night went on, especially while driving back to Mystic Falls, his bucket seats unforgiving. He looked so worn down that she couldn't have told him no even if she wanted to.

"Roll over," she directed, sitting up in bed. Damon did as he was instructed and Elena straddled him. He knew it was a sign of how tired he was when he didn't try to take advantage of the fact that a beautiful woman was on top of him. Elena went to work, rubbing his tense muscles. Slowly, he started to relax.

"You are an angel," he mumbled into his pillow. Elena just shook her head, a small smile on her lips as she continued her work. Several minutes later, she laid back down beside him. "Thank you," he said. "That felt amazing."

"You're welcome." Elena leaned over and kissed his cheek. Damon rolled onto his side and draped an arm over her.

"I'm sorry I've been a crap boyfriend," he told her. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm sorry I've been a crap boyfriend," he repeated, voicing the nagging thought he'd had since he'd arrived at her cabin the previous night. "I'm going to do better." Elena propped herself up on her elbow.

"What makes you think you've been a crap boyfriend?" she asked.

"You haven't seen me in weeks," he said. "I've been terrible about making time to call you. You wanted to come see me and I couldn't even make that happen since I was traveling so much."

"Damon, you're being too hard on yourself," Elena told him. She reached out and brushed his hair away from his forehead. "Relationships are hard and ours is even harder since we're doing most of it long distance. I'd say we're doing pretty well, all things considered." Damon shook his head.

"You're too good to me," he said.

"Stop that," Elena ordered. "I want to be with you, despite the miles between us and crazy work schedules and everything that comes along with it. It's okay to accept that and just let yourself be happy." Damon leaned in and kissed her softly.

"You're crazy for choosing me," he told her as he pulled away. "It may well turn out to be the worst decision you've ever made."

"Or it'll be the best one," Elena countered. She kissed him back and then laid back down on the bed, curling into him. "How are those shoulders now?"

"Better," he replied. "Except I'm probably going to need another shoulder rub first thing in the morning. And probably some sex too." Elena laughed.

"Probably?" she asked.

"Probably," Damon confirmed. "If I'm going to go back to the mill tomorrow, I'm going to need to be inspired. You, naked, is inspiring."

"You have to go back tomorrow?" Elena asked casually.

"I'm just going to put in a few hours," he told her. "Since I'm here, I need to put in some time there. I'll be back home before lunch. I wouldn't dare stick you having to meet Harper on your own. He's going to seize every opportunity to tell you all of my secrets. I'll have to keep him in check." Elena chuckled.

"I do plan on interrogating him," she said. "How are things going with the mill anyway? You don't talk about it much."

"Well, it's up and running," Damon said. "I suppose that's all I can ask for. It's making money and so far, I've remembered to sign off on payroll so people are getting paid. For now, I guess that's good enough."

"What happens when the six month mandate is up?" Damon shrugged.

"I haven't thought that far," he admitted. "I've got through March to figure that out. I'll worry about it after the New Year."

"If Pete keeps making you do manual labor, I guess your decision on what to do with it will be easier," Elena quipped. Damon chuckled and pulled her into him, her back against his chest as his arms wrapped around her. While he was sore, he couldn't quite deny that it had felt good, working with his hands, with other people all aiming for the same goal. He had actually enjoyed the crew he was working with, found it easier to relate to them than he thought it would be.

"Let's worry about all of that later," he said. "Right now, I want to focus on how good it feels to have you in my arms."

"I'll agree to that," Elena said, wiggling so she was even closer to Damon. He was all too happy to tighten his arms around her. He nuzzled her neck, his scruffy cheek rough against her smooth skin. She sighed contently. That sigh, for whatever reason, gave Damon the courage he'd been trying to work up for a while now. He kissed her cheek softly.

"I love you," he whispered. He heard her sharp intake of breath and prayed he hadn't said something he shouldn't have. She rolled over in his arms so she was facing him. He felt a bit relieved when he saw she was smiling.

"Say it again," she said.

"I love you," Damon repeated. He trailed his fingertips along her jawline as she smiled brightly.

"I love you too," she said, her words coming easily. Damon shook his head.

"You don't have to say it back," he said. "I just wanted you to know."

"Damon," Elena said softly, placing her hand on his cheek. "I love you. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. I love you." Damon looked bashful for perhaps the first time in his life.

"_I only know that I love you_," he said. "_That's your misfortune_."

"_Gone With The Wind," _Elena said, recognizing the line.

"_Gone With The Wind," _Damon confirmed. He kissed her forehead. "I love you, Elena."

"I love you too," Elena replied. "And for what it's worth, you loving me? That's not a misfortune."

* * *

><p><strong>They love each other! Aw!<strong>**  
><strong>

**They're sort of back in their little bubble again. Mystic Falls has a way of doing that to them... But the mill... **

**Next chapter? Harper returns! **

**Let me know what you think!**


	22. Home

**They said the L word! I thought y'all might like that! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing the last chapter. I hope you like this one as well! I do love Harper... **

**And lucky for you all, I took a "sick" day last week and wrote _so much _of this story. It's nearly done in my word document (although there are still several chapters to go here!) It's amazing what I can get done with a few uninterrupted hours. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries**

* * *

><p>"Damon?" Elena called, hearing the front door open and close. She hurried out of the Salvatore Boarding House kitchen expecting to see Damon making his way down the hallway. Instead, she was met with Stefan in his hospital scrubs.<p>

"Sorry to disappoint," Stefan said. "I'm not quite as suave and condescending as my brother."

"Hey, Stefan," Elena sighed, clearly disappointed.

"Was that Damon?" came Caroline's voice. She appeared in the hallway. "Stefan!" she huffed, throwing her arms in the air before she turned on her heel and returned to the kitchen.

"Talk about a welcome home," Stefan grumbled.

"I'm sorry," Elena apologized. "Harper James is due here any minute now and Damon isn't here."

"Where is he?"

"The mill, I think. He said he'd be back by lunch. Clearly that hasn't worked out. Have you talked to him?" Stefan raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked. Elena sighed again, realizing the likelihood that Damon would call Stefan over her was doubtful.

"What are you doing, Damon?" she muttered under her breath.

"Have you tried calling him?"

"Really?" Elena replied sarcastically, giving Stefan a look. Stefan raised his hands in appeasement.

"Sorry," he said, recognizing his cue to tread lightly. "Anything I can help with?"

"Yes, become Harper James' agent in the next 5 or so minutes."

"Or I could go to the mill and look for Damon?" Stefan proposed, raising an eyebrow. Elena shook her head.

"You're needed here," she informed him. "Well, technically you're needed down at the community center to help us finish setting up for tomorrow, but Rebekah should be filling you in on that any minute now." Stefan rolled his eyes. He actually had a whole weekend off and had planned on using the first night of it to sit around in his sweats, watch TV and eat takeout. It seemed his girlfriend and her friends had other plans for him, however.

"I can hardly wait," he grumbled. He followed Elena back into the kitchen where a spread of food greeted him. "What did you two do? Cook everything in Mystic Falls?"

"It's for Harper," Caroline informed him, smacking his hand as he reached for a ham biscuit. "He's a football player. He eats a lot. And for what it's worth, we didn't make any of this ourselves. It's catered."

"And I can't have a ham biscuit?"

"You can once Harper gets here and has first pick," Caroline informed him. He shook his head. He knew Harper James was a big deal and that the whole of Mystic Falls was excited about his appearance at the festival the next day, but he was a bit put off by the red carpet welcome, at least when he was being tempted by a spread of ham biscuits, fruits, vegetables and several kinds of cheeses and dips that he wasn't allowed to sample.

"Damon, where are you?" Elena said. Caroline and Stefan turned to see her on her phone. "Harper will be here any minute now. Call me when you get this." She put her phone down on the table and muttered a curse word.

"He's in so much trouble," Stefan told Caroline. Caroline nodded.

"So much trouble," she agreed.

"What could he possibly be doing?" Elena asked them, her exasperation clear. "He knows he's supposed to be here. He knows Harper is on his way. He called Harper this morning, bright and early, to confirm everything with him. And is Damon here? No. Is Harper here? Not yet. But he will be soon."

"I guess he got caught up at the mill?" Stefan said carefully.

"He could have at least called," Elena griped. It wasn't just the fact that Damon wasn't there yet that she was annoyed with. As much as she didn't want to be, she was also annoyed with the fact that he had woken her up at the crack of dawn for sex and then disappeared to the mill or wherever he was for hours rather than spend time with her. The fact that he'd said "I love you" before he left was his saving grace.

"I can go look for him," Stefan offered again.

"If he doesn't appear, or at least call with a reasonable excuse, in a half hour, you're up," Elena informed him. Stefan made an okay symbol with his fingers. A knock sounded on the door. "That's Harper. And his agent? Not here!" Elena blew out an irritated breath as she spun out of the kitchen to answer the door, Caroline hot on her heels. Stefan followed too, figuring at least one Salvatore should be around to welcome their house guest.

"Damon is a dead man," Elena said over her shoulder before she planted a smile on her face and opened the door. She had a greeting ready on the tip of her tongue, but it fell short as Harper James filled the doorway. He was a massive young man, built like a wall. He stood just under six feet and was all muscle. Elena recalled both Jeremy and Damon calling him a power running back and even without seeing him play, she understood what they meant.

"This Damon Salvatore's place?" he asked, taking in the brunette, blond and a man in scrubs standing before him. He had been expecting his slick, mouthy agent.

"Yes, it is, sorry," Elena said, getting her wits about her. She offered Harper her hand. "I'm Elena." Harper's face broke into a wide grin.

"Elena!" He skipped her hand and went straight for a hug. Elena awkwardly returned it. "Girl, you even prettier in person! Shouldn't be surprised though. Damon likes the finer things in life." He pulled away, grinning. "Where is that fool, anyway?"

"He's at the family mill taking care of some business," Elena answered, hoping that was a true answer. "He should be here any minute." She stepped aside, pulling the door open wider. "Come in!" Harper nodded at her and entered the house. "Harper, this is Caroline Forbes," she said, introducing Caroline. "She's in charge of the festival." Harper let out a whistle.

"Here I been chasing all these girls in DC and the likes of you and Elena are just a few hours south," he said, giving Caroline a hug as well. "I'm gonna have to reconsider life in the capital."

"I like him," Caroline informed Elena. Stefan barely kept himself from rolling his eyes.

"And this is Stefan, Damon's brother," Elena said, introducing Stefan. Harper offered his hand to Stefan.

"Nice to meet you," Stefan said, shaking Harper's hand. "Welcome to Mystic Falls."

"You sure you Stefan's brother?" he asked. "I mean, you got that good looking suave thing going for you, but you ain't quite as dark and blue eyed as your brother."

"I take after our mom, I'm told," Stefan answered. "Damon takes after Dad." He glanced past Harper and saw an expensive SUV sitting in the driveway. "Tell you what, let the girls show you around. I'll get your bags."

"Oh, I can get those," Harper said with a wave of his hand. "They fine in the car for now. But thanks, though." Stefan nodded.

"Are you hungry?" Elena asked. "We have all sorts of food."

"Girl, I'm always hungry," Harper said with a grin. He slung an arm around Elena like she was an old friend. "Show me the way." Elena laughed and led the way to the kitchen. Harper whistled in appreciation when he saw the spread that awaited him.

"Help yourself," Caroline said, waving her hand across the kitchen. "And if there's nothing you like out here, there's plenty more in the fridge and cabinets."

"Make yourself at home," Stefan added, sitting down on a barstool.

"What he means is, eat something so he can eat too," Caroline stated, glaring at Stefan. Harper looked from Caroline to Stefan and back again, his smile growing still bigger.

"I like this," he said simply. Then he reached for a ham biscuit. "Go whole hog, Salvatore number two."

"You're a good man," Stefan said with an appreciative nod, reaching for a biscuit of his own. The front door opened and closed again.

"That better be Damon," Elena said under her breath to Caroline. A few moments later, Damon appeared in the doorway, once again covered in sawdust.

"What the hell happened to you, hoss?" Harper asked, spying him first.

"I've been working," Damon said, walking further into the kitchen, his direction set for Elena.

"Since when does getting me my new parking spot involve sawdust or whatever the hell it is you're covered with?"

"Quit worrying about that damn parking spot," Damon told him. "Start worrying about how you're going to spend all that extra money you're going to be making."

"You mean that you gonna make," Harper said around a mouthful of cheese and crackers. Damon smirked and winked. He leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of Elena's head.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"We'll talk about it later," she muttered back. Damon nodded once, understanding she wasn't happy with him.

"So, Caroline," Harper started. "You got a boy?" Damon scoffed.

"Smooth," he said, settling down on a barstool next to Harper and helping himself to food.

"No," Caroline said with a shake of her head, her blonde girls bouncing. She winked at Elena who had opened her mouth to protest. "I've got a man." She held up her left hand to show off her sparkling engagement ring.

"Got a sister?" Harper countered, causing the room to burst into laughter.

"Harper, would you like something to drink?" Elena asked. She opened the fridge. "There's soda, tea, juice, water and because this is Damon and Stefan's house, multiple kinds of beer, all locally brewed. There's also a fully stocked liquor cabinet and bar cart."

"It's a little early for alcohol, but I wouldn't mind some juice," Harper replied. "But I can get it. You ain't gotta wait on me." He made to move, but Elena shook her head.

"I've got it," she said. "You're doing us a huge favor by being here and appearing at the festival tomorrow. The least I can do is get you a glass of juice." Harper looked at Damon.

"You a lucky, lucky man," he informed him. Damon nodded.

"I know," he said, looking at Elena with a smile. She had her back to him, pouring Harper a drink. "Hey, Elena? Since you're over there, would you grab me a soda?" he asked, just as much to get Elena to speak to him as to get something to wet his parched tongue.

"I'll take one too," Stefan piped up. Elena turned with Harper's juice in her hand.

"Neither of you have broken legs," she informed them as she handed the glass to Harper. She went to join Caroline where she was leaning on the counter.

"Point taken," Damon said. He stood and retrieved two sodas from the fridge and gave one to Stefan. Harper was looking at him. "What?"

"You in trouble."

"Alright, let me have it," Damon said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. Elena gave him a long look before going into the bathroom and shutting the door. He sighed and fell back on the bed, throwing an arm over his face.

* * *

><p>Elena had been perfectly herself with her friends. She and Caroline had both managed to wrap Harper around their pinkies, the running back smitten with both of them. They had gone out to dinner as a group once Rebekah joined them, Harper taken it upon himself to offer an arm to Elena and his other to Caroline, informing Damon that Caroline got an arm because Tyler was working late and Elena got one because it was fun to watch Damon be jealous. Even after Tyler joined them at the restaurant, Harper still escorted the two women out after winning an argument with Damon to pay for dinner, keeping them laughing with jokes and barbs directed at Damon.<p>

It was him Elena had been cool towards throughout the evening. He hadn't intended to spend the entire day at the mill. He had pulled himself away from Elena with some difficulty and shown up at the mill intending to put in a few hours in the office, working on both his stack of work for the mill and his stack of contracts for his clients. Pete had wrangled him into helping again, however, and the next thing he knew, he was eating lunch with the crew at a local barbecue joint which somehow turned into another few hours of working to load lumber.

He had intended to call Elena when he realized what time it was and that she had texted him a few times, called him more than once. His phone had been in his hand to dial when it rang, one of his employees calling about a contract that had been sent back from a sponsor with changes he didn't quite agree with. He had ended up talking it out the entire drive back to the Boarding House, even sitting in his car outside the house for a few minutes before hanging up and going inside.

Elena hadn't been happy, barely speaking to him throughout the afternoon and through dinner. She had allowed him to hold her hand as they entered the restaurant, but had smacked his hand away under the table when he tried to rest it on her thigh. She had blew out an annoyed breath when he leaned over to kiss her cheek and had bit out a "not now" when he tried to quietly apologize in the back of Harper's SUV on the way home. It seemed they were having their first fight as an offical couple and he didn't like it.

He moved his arm away from his face when he heard the bathroom door open. Elena emerged, once more wearing his Redskins t-shirt, this time with pajama shorts. He moved over so she could get into bed. She didn't look at him as she reached for her copy of _Gone With The Wind _which she had left on his nightstand that morning.

"You're seriously not talking to me?" he asked.

"I'm not not talking to you. I just don't have anything to say to you."

"Good," Damon said. He pushed himself up in the bed so he was leaning against the headboard. "Then I can issue an uninterrupted apology."

"Where were you?" Elena asked. "What was so important that you couldn't be here to meet Harper?"

"I was working at the mill," Damon said, going on the defense. "I have responsibilities, Elena."

"Don't talk down to me," she warned him. "I know you have responsibilities. I'm not disputing that. But you were late yesterday…"

"I was not!" Damon interrupted. "I was here when you got here."

"You were supposed to be ready to go when I got here," she reminded him. "But I didn't say anything about that, did I? Today, you were supposed to be here to meet Harper. He's your client, Damon. You should have welcomed him into your home instead of me."

"First, this isn't my home," Damon told her. "This is the family estate that I'm stuck with. Second, yes, I should have been here to meet Harper, but it wasn't like I was throwing him to the wolves. I trust you and Caroline to make him feel welcomed."

"You're missing the point!"

"Then please, fill me in!" Damon snapped, frustrated that he couldn't quite figure out what they were arguing about. He had a feeling it wasn't about the fact that he was late today or held up their dinner yesterday, but he hadn't landed on what, exactly, had Elena upset. "I can't read your mind, Elena. You're clearly pissed off at me. I'm going to need to know why before I can apologize."

"I just want to see you!" Elena burst out, tossing her book aside. She had been aiming for the nightstand, but it ended up in the floor. "It's been weeks since we were in the same place, at the same time. Surprising me a day early? That was amazing. Dinner last night? Wonderful. Even pissed off at you and with all of our friends…"

"Your friends…," Damon muttered.

"My friends, whatever! Even mad at you and with a bunch of people, I enjoyed being with you tonight. I try really hard not to be selfish, Damon. I know you are stretched thin right now and that you have a ton of responsibilities, all of which are important. But sometimes, I just want to see my boyfriend. Just my boyfriend too, not the sports agent or the owner of Salvatore Mills, but my boyfriend. I stand by what I said last night about you not being a crap boyfriend. And maybe I sound like a hypocrite right now after telling you last night that I understand you're busy. I'm just… I'm having a moment."

Elena blew out a frustrated breath and ran a hand roughly through her hair. A metaphorical light bulb lit up in Damon's head. She wasn't mad because he was late or didn't answer his phone. She was upset because she wanted to see him, spend time with him. Even the most accepting and understanding person was going to have their moments, as Elena put it.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching for her. "Come here."

"Damon…" She tried to fight him off, but he easily overpowered her, pulling her to him.

"I get it," he said, both arms wrapped around her to hold her to him. "I don't think you're being hypocritical. You've been amazingly understanding, even when I go days without calling. You're allowed to have selfish moments and want me all to yourself, Elena. I get it."

"I'm sorry," she said, relaxing ever so slightly in his arms. "It's just, with the festival tomorrow and you going back to New York on Sunday, we're not going to get to spend any time together. I mean, we'll be together, we just won't be together, you know? And then, Sunday morning, I'm going to put you on a plane and who knows when I'll see you again?"

"I'm actually going to drive back up to D.C. with Harper on Sunday," Damon admitted. "It'll give me a chance to talk to him about a few things we've got going on. He'll drop me off at Dulles." Elena sighed.

"See?" she said. "This is it. These are the last minutes we'll get to spend together. Had I known that, I might have reconsidered being mad at you all evening."

"You still would have been mad at me," Damon told her.

"But not _all _evening," Elena pointed out. "Just some of it."

"So what do we do to fix this?" Damon asked with more patience then he felt. "What do you need from me?"

"Nothing," Elena said with a shake of her head. "We're fine. I'm just overreacting."

"Elena, talk to me," Damon told her gently. "That's the only way this is going to work." Elena was quiet for a few minutes, thinking. She idly played with Damon's fingers, considering his question.

"I need to hear from you," she finally said. "Not in a 'check in with my girlfriend' kind of way but… I need to hear your voice. I can stand a day, even two, without hearing from you. But when you go three, four days at a time without calling or texting or picking up when I call, it's hard, Damon."

"Okay," Damon nodded. "I think that's fair. For what it's worth, I don't mean to not call you. I just get so wrapped up in what I'm doing that the day gets away from me and by the time I slow down enough to call, it's been a few days."

"God, I sound like that clingy girlfriend I swore I wouldn't be," Elena groaned. Damon chuckled.

"The fact that you're concerned about sounding like a clingy girlfriend proves you are, in fact, not a clingy girlfriend," he said. "You need to hear from me more often. I can do that. That's not asking too much."

"What do you need from me?" Elena countered, turning the question back on him. "This is a relationship. It's a two way street."

"Well, I need some of these clothes you're wearing to come off," Damon told her seriously, kissing her neck. "And then I need some of mine to join them in a pile on the floor."

"Damon," Elena warned.

"Okay," he said. He took his time to think on her question, just as she had done.

"I need you to be patient with me," he said eventually. "This whole being in a relationship thing – it's new to me. It scares me. And frankly, I'm not very good at it. So just be patient with me. Call me out when I go a few days without calling or when I do something that makes you mad, but be patient with me."

"I can do that," Elena confirmed. "And I meant it when I said you aren't as bad of a boyfriend as you like to think you are."

"Even when I don't call you for three, four days?"

"Even then," Elena confirmed. "You are a good man, Damon. I'll say it as many times as it takes for you to start to believe it." Damon nuzzled her hair.

"You're more than I deserve," he told her. Elena picked up his hand and laced her fingers through his.

"Can I ask you something?" He nodded.

"What you said a little bit ago, about this not being your home, did you mean that?" Damon took a long time to formulate his answer.

"I don't know where my home is anymore," he said eventually. "It's been New York for a long time. I love the city, but it doesn't quite fit anymore. But Mystic Falls doesn't fit either."

"Why doesn't New York fit?" Elena asked.

"I don't know," Damon admitted. "After I got back from being here for so long, I thought it was because you weren't there. And that was partly true. But when you came to visit, I still felt out of place. My suits are suffocating and I can't stand the noise. I used to love putting on my tailored Gucci in the mornings and the noise made me feel alive. Now, I can't wait to strip off my jacket and half the time I end up turning on the TV to drown out the sound of honking horns so I can fall asleep."

"And why doesn't here fit?"

"It's Mystic Falls," Damon said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I've spent my entire life hating this place. Even though I've discovered it holds the world's most amazing, not to mention beautiful, woman," he jostled Elena playfully, making her laugh, "I'm not ready to embrace it with open arms."

"How long do you think you can do this?" she asked, continuing to press ahead with questions that had been on her mind. "Keeping up with two big jobs, traveling constantly, sleeping rarely?"

"As long as I need to," Damon answered. "I love what I do, Elena. I love being a sports agent. I work with good people. It never feels like I'm working. The suits can be a bit uncomfortable sometimes, but they're part of the deal."

"And what about the mill?" Damon sighed.

"I don't hate the mill," he admitted. "I don't love it in the same way I love being an agent but… I don't hate it. There's something about it. I don't know what that something is, but there's something there. I can't give up being an agent. I don't know if I can give up the mill."

"Can't give up the mill, doesn't want to stop being a sports agent, can't live in Mystic Falls, doesn't feel at home in New York… Sounds like you have quite the conundrum, Salvatore."

"There is one sure thing in all of this though," Damon said.

"And that is?" Damon smiled at her and kissed her lightly.

"Me and you."

* * *

><p><strong>I'll say it again - I love Harper James. He's not quite done. He'll be back next chapter too. :) I also like how Damon and Elena are talking. They're arguing, but they're <em>talking <em>too. Healthy relationships can be a thing, y'all. :) **

**Let me know what you think!**


	23. Halloween

**So sorry for the delay! I've been doing a tiny bit of traveling. :) And then I decided I wasn't thrilled with this chapter so I took time to re-write and flesh it out a bit more. **

**Thank you all so much for the reviews last chapter! I am truly blown away by your reviews each time - I just write for fun, no beta, no one looking over this before I post, just me and some words and that's it. So thank you for the love and for putting up with the typos I'm sure each chapter has. :) **

**Bit of a filler - lots of big stuff coming after this - but after the season finale, I think we all need a little lightness. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

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><p>"Harper, this is Matt Rapport from the local NBC affiliate," Damon said, introducing a small, balding man to Harper. "Mr. Rapport, Harper James."<p>

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. James," the reporter said, holding out his hand. Harper shook it.

"Call me Harper, hoss," he said. He moved so he was standing on the reporter's left side. "Go on ahead and turn that camera on. This is my good side." He grinned cheekily at the camera man who chuckled. Damon rolled his eyes.

"Five minutes," he told the reporter before stepping aside to allow the interview to proceed. He would give the reporter ten minutes, but he let the man think he only had five so when he inevitably ran over, it didn't cut into the day's schedule.

He let his eyes drift over the festival as Harper rambled on about how thrilled he was to be in Mystic Falls and appearing at the festival. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes found Elena. Dressed as a witch, she was happily working the bean bag toss. He chuckled as a little girl dressed as a lady bug tossed her beanbag far to the left of the boards. Despite the rules of the game, Elena still rewarded her with a few pieces of candy for playing.

"You really love her."

Damon turned to find Caroline, also dressed as a witch, had appeared at his side.

"I do," he confirmed, his eyes back on Elena.

"She loves you too," Caroline continued.

Damon fiddled with the cape of his vampire costume, wondering not for the first time how he had been talked into dressing up. Harper had been all too thrilled to embrace the town folklore of vampires, witches and werewolves, eagerly putting on a cape and a set of fake teeth that he had to keep taking out to talk to people. He had only given in to Caroline's insistence when Elena had turned her smile on him and presented him with a cape.

"For what reason, I don't know," Damon replied.

"That makes two of us," Caroline stated. Damon gave her a bored look and raised an eyebrow.

"Stop beating around the bush Blondie," he said. "What do you want?"

"What makes you think I want something?" Caroline asked innocently.

"You've already threatened me about hurting Elena," he said, recalling Caroline cornering him outside of Mystic Grill when he and Elena had first started dating. "I've spent most of the day doing your bidding and you've got me dressed like the undead. I know that tone. You want something. Or you have something to say. So spit it out, whatever it is." Caroline gave him a piercing look, torn between admiration at his ability to see through her and annoyance that she'd been caught.

"This long distance thing is hard on Elena," she informed him. "You don't make it any easier, not calling or texting her for days at a time. She does a pretty good job of covering up how much that bothers her, but it does."

"News flash, Barbie. It's not exactly easy for me to be away from her either."

"You can forgive me for thinking you make it look easy to have miles and miles between you, what with all your traveling and professional sports games and black tie events and all," Caroline challenged. Damon sighed.

"What are you trying to say?" he asked, not bothering to hide his frustration.

"I'm warning you," Caroline informed him. "I did it once, but I'm doing it again. Don't you dare hurt her, Damon. Be good to her. And for God's sake, pick up the damn phone and call her."

With that, Caroline disappeared, waving down someone she knew, leaving Damon to ponder what she had said. He shook his head slightly, feeling a pang of guilt that was becoming far too familiar where Elena was concerned. He snuck another look at Elena over his shoulder, just as she looked his way. Their eyes met and he gave her a smirk and a wink, causing her to blush.

"I love you," he mouthed. She smiled broadly.

"I love you, too," she mouthed back. Her attention on him as she reached into her station's candy dish to pass out candy to a group of kids, she missed the nearest child's candy bucket, dropping candy all over the floor. He chuckled as she started scrambling to pick it up and turned back to Harper just as his interview wrapped.

"Thank you," Damon said, shaking the reporter's hand. Harper did the same. "We'll be on the lookout for your piece."

"I like this," Harper declared, his hands on his hips as he looked around the festival once the reporter left.

"Like what?" Damon asked. "All the attention you're getting? Because that's nothing new. You love the spotlight." Harper glared at him.

"You a punk," he stated.

"And you're a jackass," Damon countered. Harper chuckled and shook his head.

"I really don't know what Elena sees in you," he stated.

"Makes two of us," Damon said, glancing back at Elena who was once more engaged in talking to group of children. He opened his mouth to say something further when he heard another familiar voice moments before he was hit in his legs from the side.

"Day-mun!"

"Hey, rug rat!" he said, squatting so he was eyelevel with Ella. "How's it going?"

"I gots candy!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she showed Damon her Halloween pail which was half full of sweets. "Lots and lots of candy!"

"Looks like it," Damon chuckled, sure the toddler had been sampling from her pail. When he looked closer, he saw she had a smudge of chocolate on the corner of her mouth. He instinctively reached out and rubbed it off with his thumb. "Where are your owners?" he asked, glancing around for Jenna or Ric. He spied Ric nearby, talking with the high school principal, feigning interest in whatever he was saying. He raised a hand at Damon in greeting and Damon nodded in turn, assuming that meant he was in charge of Ella for the time being.

"Where's Aunt Laney?" Ella asked, swinging her Halloween pail at her side.

"She's working at the bean bag toss," he told her. "Want to check it out? I bet she has some candy."

"Please!" Ella said excitedly, bouncing in place. Damon laughed.

"Come on, then," he said, scooping her into his arms and standing.

"Who's this little lady?" Harper asked. He'd been standing quietly, observing Damon with the child.

"This is Elena's niece, Ella," he said. "Ella, this is my friend, Harper."

"I'm a friend?" Harper asked, acting surprised. "Hot damn!"

"Language!" Damon snapped, glaring at Harper. Harper looked at Damon and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Wiping chocolate off kids' faces, correcting me for foul language when you cuss like a sailor on leave…"

"Oh, shut up!" Damon shot back. Ella gasped.

"Dat's a bad word!" she told Damon seriously, wagging her little finger the same way her parents did when correcting her. "You not say that!"

"Say what?" Damon asked, genuinely confused.

"You say shut up!" Ella admonished him. "That's bad!" Harper burst out laughing while Damon tried to figure out the right response. He had a reputation for being tough at the negotiating table, but he was out of his element with dealing with a toddler.

"You're right," he finally said. "'Shut up' is a bad word. I shouldn't say it and neither should you."

"You have to saw sowwy to him," Ella said, pointing at Harper whose eyes lit up like Christmas had come early.

"Yeah, Damon," he said with a serious nod. "You owe me an apology." Damon narrowed his eyes at Harper who was clearly enjoying himself. Ella looked on expectantly, waiting for Damon to apologize.

"I'm sorry," he bit out to Harper.

"Say it like you mean it…," Harper coaxed, grinning broadly.

"No parking space," Damon replied, pointing at him. "It's off the table. Come on, Ella. Let's go see your aunt." He set off towards Elena, leaving a laughing Harper to follow behind him.

"Ella!" Elena greeted when she saw them. "I've been looking for you!"

"Hi, Aunt Laney!" Ella replied. "Day-mun say you gots candy!"

"Did he?" Elena asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Damon.

"I may have mentioned it," Damon said with a shrug. "Hi," he added, leaning down to kiss Elena's check.

"Hi," she replied, giving him a grin before turning to Harper. "Having fun, Harper?"

"The time of my life," Harper confirmed with a grin of his own. "I like this place. I like your friends. I like the hot dogs they're selling over by the balloon dart game. And I really like your niece. She just made Damon apologize to me."

"Oh?" Elena asked, looking from Damon to Harper and back again.

"Day-mun said 'shut up' to Harper," Ella informed her aunt. "That not nice." Elena shook her head.

"That's not nice at all," she agreed. "Damon's not going to say that anymore, right Damon?"

"At least not on front of the munchkin," he grumbled, noting Elena's barely concealed grin.

"He apologize, we all good," Harper said with a nod. "My feelings ain't hurt or nothin' like that."

"We'll see about that," Damon said to Elena. "He's not getting his parking space anymore." She shook her head in amusement, then turned her attention back to Ella.

"Damon, put her down," she directed. "I want to see this Elsa costume I've heard so much about." Damon obliged and set Ella on her feet. He stood and watched as Elena fawned over Ella's costume and then lined her up to play the beanbag toss.

"Ain't the kid's name Ella?" Harper asked Damon. "Who is Elsa?"

"Her name is Ella," Damon confirmed. "Elsa is… some princess or something." Harper shrugged in understanding.

"She's a cute kid," he said. "Shame she ain't got better taste in who she hangs out with though. Seems to like you right much." Damon gave Harper an annoyed look.

"Seriously, shut up. You haven't quit talking since you got up this morning."

"Don't make me get Ella on you again…" Damon punched Harper in his arm and was rewarded with Harper punching him right back. Harper opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by Elena and Ella cheering as Ella's beanbag went through a hole in the board.

"High five, kiddo," Damon said, holding his hand out to Ella. Ella slapped it enthusiastically. "Nice work."

"Tiny girl got skill," Harper added. "Gimme some love." He held out his hand just as Damon had and Ella didn't hesitate to high five him as well.

"Here you go, Ella," Elena said. She reached into her station's candy bowl and dropped a few pieces into Ella's pail.

"Aunt Laney is stingy," Damon commented. He reached past Elena, grabbed a handful of candy and added it to the pail.

"Damon!" Elena hissed.

"Elena," he retorted.

"Can I play again?" Ella asked.

"No one is in line, so step on up," Elena directed. "But no more candy," she added over her shoulder to Damon. He rolled his eyes.

"That kid looks good on you," Harper observed from beside Damon. Damon looked over at him.

"What are you implying?" Harper shrugged again.

"You're good with the kid," he said. "And given the fact that you have a hot girlfriend, her good looks should cancel out your ugly mug which means y'all will pop out some pretty babies." Damon gave him a look. He shook his head.

"Stop calling my girlfriend hot," he ordered. He turned his attention back to Elena while Harper wandered off muttering about getting another hot dog. He chuckled as Ella's beanbag sailed far right and landed in the booth next to Elena's. He tried to ignore the image that had formed in his head of Elena cradling a newborn baby that had his eyes but looked an awful lot like her. He was still trying to figure out how to be a decent boyfriend. There was no room for thinking about infants swaddled in pink or Elena, wearing his mother's engagement ring.

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><p>Elena stretched her arms over her head and stifled a yawn. She burrowed down under the blanket, letting the cushions of the soft couch in the Salvatore media room envelope her. She let her head lull onto the armrest while a syndicated sitcom played out on the big screen TV across from her. She was exhausted, but she was holding out on falling asleep until Damon returned. She yawned again as Joey and Chandler made themselves comfortable in their new recliners.<p>

"Stop that mess, girl," came Harper's voice. He appeared in the room and flopped down in a nearby armchair. "That stuff is contagious and the night is young."

"It's nearly eleven o'clock," Elena told him. "I've been up since dawn. And, well, you've met Caroline."

"I'll give you that," Harper said with a nod. "Talk about needing to dial back the Red Bull." Elena laughed.

"I warned you," she said, reminding Harper of their breakfast conversation in which she had told him he was in for a long day with Caroline.

"You did," he agreed. "So did Damon, Stefan and Bex. But, damn. The Energizer Bunny got nothing on her. Can I just say how glad I am it's you Damon ended up with? I like Care just fine, but I couldn't put up with all that Legally Blonde energy all the time." Elena laughed again.

By lunchtime, she had decided she adored Harper James. He had a sharp sense of humor. He had wasted no time in treating her and her friends like he had known them his entire life. He had humored Jeremy picking his brain about defenses, posed for several photos with Tyler and had teamed up with Stefan to tease Damon at every chance they got.

But she had gotten to see his heart on display as well. He had spent the entire day taking part in Halloween festival activities, first helping them set up despite Caroline's protests and then attending the festival, both to sign autographs and take photos and to hang out, playing games and taking part in some of the annual traditions, even dressing up like a vampire. She could tell he was doing it from the goodness of his heart, using his celebrity for good.

"I know I've said it a dozen times, but thank you so much for being here," she told him. "We raised so much money for the food bank and the kids absolutely loved you. And, well, so did my brother." Harper shook his head.

"Stop thanking me, Elena," he said. "I'm glad I could be a part of it. I meant what I said – anytime you think I can help, call me. Or have Damon call me. God knows he has me on speed dial. Fool always wants something." Harper looked around the room. "Where is he, anyway?"

"On the phone," Elena said dryly. "Some basketball player wants to work with him or something. I was too tired to understand what he was saying when he excused himself to take the call."

"On the phone?" Harper repeated. "Like you just said, it's eleven on a Saturday night. What's he doing, working? He was working when I got up at eight-thirty this morning. And that was damn early for me."

"The guy is on the west coast," Elena said, remembering Damon saying something about the Trail Blazers. "I guess it's not that late out there." She snuggled deeper into the couch cushions, wishing Damon would hurry up so she could curl up with him and go to sleep. He and Harper were leaving early in the morning and every minute counted as far as she was concerned. She became aware of the fact that Harper was gazing at her. "What?" she inquired.

"Damon really loves you," he told her. "I've seen him at his worst, Elena. Hell, he's seen me at my worst. But he helped me get to my best. Seeing him with you, he's at his best. He's happy. I know I give him a lot of crap, but I love him like the older brother I wish my own brother had been to me. I owe you my thanks for helping him get to his best." Elena was momentarily speechless.

"I haven't done anything…," she started.

"You have though," Harper interrupted. "You saw past all the bullshit Damon throws in front of him. He was a mess there for a while. Katherine was a bitch on wheels and she screwed him up pretty bad. His dad's death messed him up too although you'd never know it, would you? It's been good, seeing him laughing and joking around again – without the help of bourbon."

"He's good at his job, isn't he?" Elena asked. "Not just the landing endorsement deals and negotiating contracts stuff, but the other stuff too." Harper nodded.

"Damon is the best," he confirmed. "He cares, you know? I give Damon a hard time about how much money he makes off me, but letting him take a cut of my payday is the least I can do. Honestly, he doesn't take nearly the cut he should – the cut most agents take."

"It seems like you two are close," Elena observed. She knew there was a story behind their relationship and she wanted to hear about it.

"Yeah, well, Damon gave me a chance when no one else wanted to," Harper said. "I went to Alabama. Best damn college football team in the country. But when you're playing with the best, you ride the bench a lot, waiting on your turn. When I finally started to get some touches, I was halfway through my second to last year of eligibility. I made some waves though and got some looks from the pros. I entered the draft thinking I'd go in one of the later rounds and ended up not getting picked up at all. My agent dropped me and there I was, a soon to be college graduate with a degree I couldn't do much with."

Elena nodded. She knew all of this from Damon.

"I figured my playing days were over. I was going to end up living back in project housing, running the streets of New Orleans, making bad decisions just to get food on the table and a roof over my head. But Damon showed up and he talked me into giving him a chance. I figured if he was dumb enough to take a chance on me, I was gonna be dumb enough to take a chance on him.

"Elena, people don't know what I'm about to tell you and I'd appreciate it if you didn't let it out." Elena nodded before Harper continued. "When Damon signed me, I was broke. I had no money, no place to live, no nothing. He let me sleep on his couch, fed me, made me go to the gym, train. He didn't cut me no slack and there were days I hated his guts. But he believed in me and Elena, I ain't had a lot of people believe in me in my life. He got me a walk on tryout with the Redskins and now, here I am. I owe Damon everything. So yeah, he's good at his job. But more than that, he's a good person. Ain't many better than Damon."

"Damon is a good man," Elena agreed with a nod. "And I love him."

"I know," Harper said with a nod. Then he grinned. "Just don't be afraid to kick his ass from time to time. He needs it. And sometimes, it's just fun to do." Elena laughed as footsteps sounded in the hall outside the media room.

"She's taken, James," Damon said, leaning over the couch to place a kiss on the top of Elena's head.

"Then you ought to be in here all cuddled up with your girl instead of running your mouth on the phone somewhere," Harper countered.

"It couldn't wait," Damon replied. "I assure you, I'd rather have been here."

"Did you sign the guy?" Elena asked.

"Not yet. I'm sending him a contract tomorrow. We'll go from there."

"Oh good," Harper piped up. "I get to listen to you on the phone bossing people around all the way to D.C."

"Keep that parking spot in mind," Damon shot back. He looked at Elena. "Ready to go to bed?"

"Yes," Elena agreed readily. She made to stand up, but she was suddenly being lifted off the couch.

"Allow me," Damon smirked, cradling her in his arms as he lifted her over the back of the couch.

"I'm too young to see all this," Harper said, dramatically covering his hands with his eyes. Damon merely winked at him, then left the room, Elena in his arms.

"You're crazy," she told him, her arms wrapped around his neck as the climbed the stairs.

"About you," he told her, smirking.

"Smooth," Elena replied, grinning. They entered Damon's bedroom and he gently dropped Elena onto the bed before laying down beside her, both fully clothed.

"I'd say today was a success," Damon commented.

"It was," Elena confirmed. She rolled over to her side and draped an arm over Damon's stomach. "Thank you for getting Harper here. You really came through for us."

"I came through for you," Damon corrected, brushing her hair out of her face. "I would move Heaven and earth for you."

"You know, Harper told me what you did for him," Elena ventured, her fingers idly drawing patterns along his stomach.

"Land him a multimillion dollar contract and a posh endorsement deal? Yep, I did that." Elena shook her head.

"About how you gave him a place to say, kept him out of trouble, made sure he had something to eat. He really looks up to you."

"He was just a kid in trouble," Damon said with a shake of his head. "Anyone would have helped him out."

"Not anyone," Elena argued. "And you know that."

"He had too much potential to let it all go to waste," Damon said. "I did what I needed to do to get him where he needed to be."

"I wish you saw yourself the way everyone else does," Elena told him. She reached out and pushed his hair off his forehead.

"I see myself for what I am," Damon told her. "It's my good fortune that you seem to see something worthwhile in me." Elena shook her head, knowing arguing was futile. "But enough about Harper and enough about me." He shifted to his side and pulled Elena close. "It'll be morning before we know it and I plan to make love to you at least three more times before I have to go."

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><p><strong>Seriously, I love Harper James. And Ella. Having those two together in a chapter after that season finality was necessary. Now, back out of the bubble that Mystic Falls seems to be for Elena and Damon... <strong>

**Let me know what you think! **


	24. Delivery

_**I know. **_**I'm so sorry it took me three weeks to update. I moved and it seems moving down the street is WAY harder then when I moved states last year. But I now have furniture assembled and things on my walls so onward! **

**Thank you a million times over for reading and reviewing and being so wonderful! I've nearly finished writing this which is sad. But not for you, because while *I* have almost finished writing the story, there are still several more chapters to go! And there's the matter of a new Damon and Elena story that's been rattling around in my head... Stay tuned!  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

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><p>"Thank you," Stefan said to the barista with a nod as she passed him his coffee and a pastry to go. He turned to leave, but stopped short when he spied Elena. She was seated in a corner booth, her laptop open, papers spread across the table. She looked tired, he noted, and was dressed down in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair thrown into a messy ponytail, glasses resting across the bridge of her nose. He changed directions.<p>

"Hey," he greeted, stopping at her table. Elena startled, but she relaxed when she saw him.

"Hey," she replied, blowing out a breath. "Sorry. I'm in the zone."

"Looks it," Stefan said, indicating her messy table with his hand holding the pastry bag. "The book?"

"I finished the first draft late last night," Elena confirmed. "Ahead of schedule, might I add. Now, I'm editing it. Before I send it to my editor to be edited."

"Congratulations," Stefan said. He toasted her with his coffee.

"Thanks," she replied. "I'm pretty proud of this one. You headed to the hospital? Rebekah said you were on call this weekend."

"Yeah, I'm heading in that direction. I don't need to be there for another couple of hours, but Bex is at work, so I figured I may as well put on some scrubs and start saving lives."

"So dedicated," Elena quipped.

"Says the girl who finished her second book ahead of schedule."

"Just call us overachievers," Elena said with a shrug. Then she got serious. "Have you heard from Damon?" she asked, hoping she sounded casual. Stefan shook his head.

"Not counting a one line, R-rated email telling me he has the mill under control, no," he said. "I haven't talked to him since he was here for Halloween. I've called him a few times, left messages, texted. He doesn't reply. I guess I shouldn't expect him to. I thought maybe things had changed after he was here for those weeks after Dad's funeral, but I guess not."

"He's been busy," Elena ventured. Stefan raised an eyebrow.

"Have you heard from him?" he countered, getting the feeling that Damon's communication with Elena had been almost as sparse. Elena shrugged.

"Sort of," she said. "He calls every couple of days, sends a text or so a day. I haven't really talked to him for any length of time though." Stefan could hear the disappointment in her voice, even as she worked to hide it. He bit his lip to stop himself from shaking his head. He had been worried about his brother breaking Elena's heart because of his playboy reputation. Now, it seemed he had to worry about Damon breaking her heart by not realizing what he had right in front of him.

"Any idea what he's doing for Thanksgiving? I'm going to Chicago with Rebekah, but I sort of assumed the two of you would be spending the holiday together."

"That remains to be seen," Elena said and Stefan sensed he'd hit on a touchy subject by her tone and pursed lips. "He's going to a Redskins game. Which I'm invited to, but I don't know that I want to spend my Thanksgiving watching grown men crash into each other, no matter how much I like Harper James."

"Damon has missed the last couple of Thanksgivings in favor of football games," Stefan confirmed. He looked at Elena closely, taking in her worn down appearance that he strongly suspected wasn't just because she stayed up late working on her book. "You okay?" Elena sighed heavily, knowing she could confide in Stefan.

"When Damon was here at Halloween, he promised he would be better about making time to call or send a text message. That was nearly three weeks ago and I can count on my fingers how many times I've talked to him since. Now, we're a week away from Thanksgiving and I have no idea when I'll see him, if I'll see him. I don't even know if I'll talk to him before the weekend is up and it's only Thursday. He called last night, so the odds aren't good."

"I'm sorry," Stefan said, not sure what else to say. Elena sighed again and shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry," she said. "I've thrown myself into finishing this sequel and I'm exhausted which means I'm cranky. It's probably in Damon's best interest not to call me right now, honestly."

"Have you told Damon any of this?" Stefan asked. "About Thanksgiving and not living up to his end of the deal?"

"Well, that would involve actually getting him on the phone, wouldn't it?" Elena countered. Then she shook her head once more. "Sorry," she said again. "I need sleep."

"And I should be getting to the hospital," Stefan said with a nod. "Just – talk to Damon, Elena. He's hardheaded. He needs the point driven home sometimes." Elena smiled and nodded.

"I know," she agreed. "And I do plan on talking to him about everything."

"When you do talk to him next, tell him I need a few minutes of his time," Stefan said. He held up his coffee to her again. "See you, Elena."

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><p>Elena snuggled back into the plush pillows of her bed at Ric and Jenna's and pulled the comforter over her lap. Once she was comfortable, she picked up her phone and called Damon, hoping he would answer, even if it were after eleven.<p>

"Salvatore," he barked into the phone after two rings.

"Gilbert," Elena replied. She heard Damon sigh.

"Hey," he said. "Sorry. I've been reading a contract. I didn't look at the screen before I answered."

"Still working?"

"Aren't I always?" Elena could hear the bitter note in his voice.

"Sorry," she replied almost automatically. "I'll let you get back to it…"

"No," Damon said quickly. "Don't hang up. I can talk for a little while."

"You sure?"

"Of course, Elena. I've been meaning to call you all day."

"Busy?" Elena guessed. She was the one with a note of bitterness in her voice this time, tired of hearing that as his excuse. Damon picked up on her tone and groaned internally. He was normally patient with Elena, but after a day that included a lucrative endorsement deal falling through and some negative press about Enzo, he wasn't in the mood for defending his actions.

"Don't start," he warned.

"Don't start what?"

"Bitching me out for not answering the phone. I lost out on an endorsement deal, spent half the day trying to smooth over a bunch of bullshit stories the press spun about Enzo, and now I'm reading a contract for the fifth time because I've got a basketball player that thinks he's God. I don't have the time nor the patience to listen to you complain about my lack of communication."

On her end of the phone, Elena's jaw was slack. Damon had never been so short with her before. Tears stung at her eyes, but she fought to keep them from falling.

"I'm sorry you've had a bad day," she said evenly. "I'll let you get back to work."

"I said I could talk for a few minutes, didn't I?" Damon countered. Elena could hear papers rustling in the background, followed by the sound of typing. She wasn't going to get Damon's full attention, regardless of what he said.

"It's late and I'm tired," she replied. "I'm going to go to bed. Just call me whenever you get a chance."

"Elena…"

"Goodnight, Damon." She didn't wait for his reply before ending the call. She turned off the lights and slid down under the covers. She let her tears fall, half expecting Damon to call back and apologize.

Her phone never rang.

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><p><em>6:03 AM <em>

It was no use.

Damon tossed his covers back and got out of bed, padding groggily to the bathroom. After emptying his bladder, he brushed his teeth and splashed cold water over his face. He leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of the sink, and lifted his eyes to the mirror.

He barely recognized the man staring back at him. The eyes that looked back at him were a familiar shade of blue, but the heavy bags under them were impossible to ignore. His already pale skin had a gray tint and his hair was longer than he normally would have allowed it to be. He looked as exhausted as he felt. He also felt the heavy burden of guilt.

He hadn't meant to snap at Elena the night before. It had taken some time for it to sink in that he had been out of line. He hadn't had the best of days and by the time her phone call came in, his temper, which had been bubbling hot just below the surface for much of the day, erupted. She wasn't wrong in calling him. He hadn't talked to her in two days outside of a few stray text messages and he knew he wasn't living up to his end of the deal to communicate better. She was being as patient as a saint, just like he had asked her to be, but he was already falling back into his habit of knocking her down his to do list because he deemed something more urgent than talking to the woman he loved. He had been pushing his luck with Elena lately and in the back of his mind, he knew he was running right up to disaster. But he never seemed to catch himself messing up before it was too late.

With a sigh, he shoved off the sink and returned to his bedroom. His cell phone mocked him from where he'd left it on the nightstand. He picked it up and unlocked it, scrolled through his text messages until he found his exchanges with Elena. They were, he realized, largely one sided. His fingers hovered over the keypad, trying to think of just the right thing to send Elena in an effort to start filling his part of the conversation and maybe begin smoothing over hurt feelings from the night before. Nothing came to mind though and so he kept it in his hand and walked into the living room.

It was too early to call Elena and beg for forgiveness. She was surely asleep and waking her when he was knew she had already gone to bed angry was out of the question. He sat down at his counter and drummed his fingers on the counter. He was wound tight, anxious. He rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension that had built there.

Several minutes passed, his mind turning over all the things he could do to distract himself until it was a reasonable hour to call Elena and apologize. He had plenty of work to do, he always did, but he knew he'd never be able to focus and frankly, the idea of working did everything but make him physically ill. Watching TV didn't sound appealing and reading would only remind him of Elena and in turn, the fact that she was mad at him. It dawned on him that he could go for a run, something else he hadn't gotten to do much of lately.

His mind made up, he stood and returned to his bedroom to change. He grabbed his keys and his phone and left his apartment in a rush, suddenly eager to just move. He started jogging as soon as his feet landed on the sidewalk outside of his building, weaving in and out of the few people that had already ventured out in the early morning hours of Saturday.

It was cold, the air brisk and burning his lungs as he ran towards Central Park. Signs of the Christmas holidays were already starting to appear, windows being unveiled with their Christmas themes, lights strung, trees installed, but not yet lit. He wasn't sure he had ever felt so far removed from the holiday spirit, even if he hadn't properly celebrated them in years. Thanksgiving was five days away. He wanted to spend it with Elena, but he was going to have to spend it at a football game, one he hoped Elena would agree to attend with him. His hopes were thin though as he knew instinctively that it was a day she would want to spend with her family. Given his recent track record, he couldn't blame her.

He ran for a long time, longer than he had in weeks. His workouts as of late had largely been spent either running on the treadmill while talking on his phone or else lifting weights with a client, combining a business meeting with weight training. His legs cramped, his chest burned, but he kept running, his mind focusing on putting on foot in front of the other and, for a change, nothing else until he found himself back at his apartment with no real recollection of how he got there.

Inside, he fell onto his couch, his exhaustion rapidly catching up with him again. It was still too early to call Elena on a Saturday morning, but he needed a connection to her. He opened his phone and scrolled through his photos, his lips tugging at a smile as he flipped through them, nearly all of them featuring Elena. When he reached the end, he closed the app and opened up Facebook. He ignored his ever growing notification bubble, not really caring who had written on his wall or liked a link to an article about one of his clients. He absentmindedly scrolled through his newsfeed, wondering vaguely how many self-portraits Caroline could take of herself and Tyler and rolling his eyes at Rebecca's gushing status update about how excited she was to take Stefan home to Chicago for Thanksgiving. He stopped when a photo of Elena appeared.

_Aunt Laney is sleeping over! _Jenna had captioned the photo, posted the evening before, of Elena and Ella seated at Ella's child-sized table, another tea party underway. They were both wearing tiaras and feather boas and were draped in plastic jewelry. Damon felt his heart squeeze with longing, longing that was made stronger when he noticed Elena's comment on the photo.

_That little girl makes my heart whole. _

A plan started to form in his mind. Without sitting up, he reached for his laptop which had left on the coffee table the night before. He waited impatiently for it to start up and then he Googled florists in or around Mystic Falls. With a bit more effort than he was anticipating, he found one that would deliver on a Saturday and also accepted online orders. After changing his mind a few times, he placed an order and closed his laptop. He settled in with his remote control to wait for a delivery confirmation.

* * *

><p>Elena pulled her jacket tighter around her as she made her way down the sidewalk to where she had parked her car that morning. The November air was crisp. The storefronts were all dressed up for the holiday, every single one depicting the season. She normally loved the holidays, but today, she wasn't feeling it.<p>

Even after a Saturday brunch with Caroline and Bonnie, she was still reeling from her conversation with Damon. She refused to call him, deciding the ball was in his court after last night. But as the day passed, she was growing more and more restless. She wanted to talk to Damon, tell him how she was feeling and try to work through things. But to do that, he was going to have to call her.

She reached her car and made the quick drive back to Ric and Jenna's. She was greeted by an excited Ella who seemed to forget she had just seen her a couple of hours ago. She spent the afternoon playing with Ella, losing herself in the child's innocence as a means of distraction from her silent cell phone. When Jenna took Ella with her to the grocery store, effectively giving Elena a break, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom and laid down across the bed, deciding to nap. She hadn't slept much the night before and it was catching up with her. She had just drifted off when the doorbell rang. Groaning, she forced herself off the bed and downstairs. She swung open the door and was greeted by a large arrangement of flowers.

"Elena Gilbert?" asked the delivery man.

"Yes?"

"Sign here," the man directed, pushing a clipboard towards Elena. Elena took it and, using the pen attached to it by a string, scribbled down her name. "Thanks," he said, taking the clipboard back and handing Elena the arrangement in one well-practiced motion. Closing the door behind her, she made her way to the kitchen, placed the arrangement on the counter and looked for a card. She found it easily and ripped into it, trying not to hope it was from Damon.

_I'm sorry. Love you. – D. _

Elena felt the corners of her lips tug upward as she took in the arrangement full of bright, in season flowers. She still had the card in her hand when her phone rang out. She retrieved it from where she'd left it on the coffee table earlier, already sure she knew who was on the other line.

"Hello?"

"You can't see me right now, but I'm on my knees, begging you to forget my behavior last night and forgive me," came Damon's voice.

"That begging wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the obnoxiously large arrangement of flowers that was just delivered to my door, would it?" she asked.

"My phone call may have been strategically timed with the delivery of said obnoxiously large arrangement of flowers," Damon admitted. He sighed heavily and Elena could picture him running his hand through his hair. "God, Elena, I'm sorry. I was an ass last night."

"You were," Elena confirmed. "I didn't deserve that, Damon."

"No, you didn't," Damon agreed. "What's that saying? You always hurt the ones you love?"

"Not an excuse."

"It's not," he agreed. "I'm sorry, Elena. Both for how I acted last night and for not calling you more this week."

"I'm trying to be patient with you, Damon, just like you asked. But you have to live up to your end of the deal."

"I know," he admitted. "I'm really screwing this up."

"You had a moment," Elena replied. "Thank you for apologizing."

"Does this mean you forgive me?"

"I'm getting there," Elena said. "What was the attitude for last night?" Damon sighed.

"I had a bad day," he said. "It's not much of an excuse, but it's true. A deal I was working on fell through. The company nixed the product launch after seeing their latest earnings report. It was worth a lot of money and my client was pissed. Then word got out that Enzo was on a day pass from rehab and the paparazzi went after him. They got photos of him walking past a bar with his mom and girlfriend and twisted it to be a day drinking adventure while he was supposed to be in rehab. So I got to deal with that all day. Then I spent the evening reading a complicated contract and trying to do everything else I didn't get around to earlier. By the time you called, I was already in a towering temper. I took it out on you. I'm sorry, Elena."

Elena sighed. She could hear the sincerity in Damon's tone. She wanted to be upset with him. She wanted to let him know how she had cried herself to sleep and woke up with doubts that they were going to work. Instead, she felt her anger dissipating.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day," she told him. "I hope today is going better."

"Well, I've spent the entirety of it wondering if I still have a girlfriend, so not really."

"You still have a girlfriend," Elena told him. "And she still loves you, even if she thinks you're an idiot that works too hard."

"I love you too, Elena," he said and Elena could hear the relief in his voice. "I don't think you know how much I love you."

"I know you love me," she assured him. She sat down at the kitchen counter and reached out to lightly finger the petals of one of the flowers. "But Damon, something has to give. We need to figure out a way to deal with this long distance thing that works for both of us."

"I need to call more," Damon said automatically. "I take you for granted, Elena. I don't mean to. I do it without realizing it."

"I don't want to be an obligation," Elena countered. "I don't want you to feel like you _have _to call me."

"But I do," Damon replied. "Have to call you, I mean. And I need to answer when you call. You keep forgiving me, being understanding and letting things go the moment I apologize, yet again. Hold me accountable, Elena. Get mad at me and stay mad at me. I love you, but I'm not good at this whole relationship thing. Call me out on my crap and make me grovel."

"So you want me to be patient, but you also want me to get mad and stay mad?" Elena asked. "Those are a little counterproductive, Damon." Damon sighed.

"I want you to tell me when you're upset," he explained. "I want you to say 'Damon, you did this and it pissed me off.' But I also need you to understand that I've got a lot on my plate and sometimes there are more things to do in a day than there are hours to do them."

"Okay," Elena said a nod of her head that Damon couldn't see. "I'll tell you when I'm upset and be patient with you. And in turn, you will…?"

"Answer the phone," Damon said. "How about we make a rule?"

"A rule?

"A rule," Damon confirmed. "We talk on the phone at least once a day, every single day. Even if it's just 30 seconds at six o'clock in the morning. We call each other and keep calling each other until the other one answers."

"I'd like that," Elena admitted softly.

"I know," Damon replied in a soft tone of his own. He'd figured out while anxiously for the flower delivery to be made that while Elena was independent and more than capable of taking care of herself, Elena needed the reassurance of his voice. He could understand that. She had suffered two great losses with the death of her parents. Even though they had died years ago, the hole they left behind was still gaping. She filled it as best she could with her friends and now, him. She needed to hear from him not because she didn't trust him or was clingy. She needed to hear from him as reassurance that he was okay.

"So, do we have a deal?" Elena asked.

"We have a deal," Damon confirmed. He shifted around on his couch, getting comfortable. He had intentions of talking to her for a long time, needing to hear her voice just as much at that moment as she needed to hear his. "So," he ventured, "Thanksgiving…"

"Is on Thursday," Elena replied. He could hear the tentativeness in her voice.

"It is," he agreed. Then he sighed. "I have to be in Dallas for the Redskins/Cowboys game. There's no way out of it. Come with me. I know it's not how you imagined Thanksgiving – you probably have plans with Jenna and Ric and Jeremy and Bonnie. But Cowboys Stadium is an incredible venue and it's a rivalry game. It'll be an experience. I'll make us dinner reservations for after the game. I don't have to be anywhere immediately afterward so we could spend the weekend there. Or we could go somewhere else. Name the place and I'll book our tickets tonight. Just, spend Thanksgiving with me. Please."

Elena smiled on her end of the phone. It seemed important to Damon that they spend the holiday together. She certainly wanted to spend the holiday with him. She had been to Dallas once before, but had only seen the inside of a Barnes & Noble where she had signed copies of her book for two hours before heading to Austin. It would be fun to explore a new city with Damon who had spent a fair amount of time there.

"I guess I should borrow Jeremy's Harper James jersey," she said. "If I'm going to be attending a Redskins game and all."

"You'll come with me?" Damon asked, his voice full of excitement.

"I will," she confirmed, smiling bigger. "Should I pack cowboy boots and a ten gallon hat, too?"

"Only if you intend for it to be used for role play in the bedroom," he growled.

"I wouldn't rule it out," Elena ventured, teasing Damon. She heard him groan.

"Focus," he said, more to himself than to her. "I'll make the arrangements to get you to Dallas…"

"Damon, I can handle that," Elena interrupted. She had quickly realized Damon wasn't one to willingly let her pay for anything and while she could appreciate his "the man always pays" sentiment, she wanted him to understand she could take care of herself.

"I know you can," Damon appeased. "But I know the itinerary. Let me arrange everything. Can you leave on Tuesday?"

"I can."

"Good. I'll see you then."

* * *

><p><strong>Poor Damon. He really is trying. He's just - not so good at it. They're celebrating Thanksgiving together. In Dallas. So that's fun. What could possibly go wrong? :) <strong>**  
><strong>

**Please let me know what you think!**


	25. Dallas

**Welcome to Dallas, friends! Elena and Damon have landed. **

**Thank you all so much for your reviews last chapter. Damon and Elena are on a bit of a roller coaster ride here lately, with highs and lows. I've nearly finished writing the story - although there are still several chapters for you all to go! - and I am so pleased with how it's turned out. I can't wait to wrap it up and share the whole thing with you over the next few weeks! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Elena thanked the woman behind the desk as she passed her the keycard to her and Damon's hotel room. Her flight had landed in Dallas less than an hour ago, but Damon was once again experiencing flight delays, thanks to a torrential rainstorm in the northeast. Instead of arriving around the same time as her, it would be late afternoon, at best, before he made his way to Texas.<p>

After politely declining the aide of a bellhop, she navigated her luggage – a large suitcase and a roller bag carry on along with her oversized purse – into the elevator, took the car to her floor, and located their room number, impressed by the hotel's elegant décor. Inside the room, she stopped in her tracks. She had heard the word "suite" when checking in, but she hadn't realized what she was in for as she stepped inside. The elaborate suite was more like a small apartment, complete with a small kitchenette, a living room and an impressive master bedroom and bathroom. She shook her head with a fond smile as she explored. Damon never did anything halfway.

Her flight had been an early one, among the first of the day to leave Charlottesville. After a short layover in Chicago, she had landed in Dallas just before lunch. She put her things away at a leisurely pace, figuring there was no reason to rush if Damon was still hours from arriving. After hanging her last dress, she located the room service menu and ordered a salad. She lay back on the bed to wait, letting out a sigh at how comfortable it was. Her phone chimed.

_Finally getting on the plane. It might actually leave this time. _

She smiled at Damon's message and then tapped out her own.

_Tell the pilot to hurry. _

Damon replied moments later.

_Not sure if there are speed limits in the sky, but I'll tell him to break them all. _

Elena was working on her reply as another message from Damon came through.

_Time to turn off the phone. I'll see you in Dallas. Love you. _

Elena smiled as she texted him a "love you too" before letting her phone fall to the bed. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door followed by a call of "room service!" She inhaled her meal at an unladylike speed and after a brief debate between exploring the area around the hotel on her own or taking a nap, she chose a nap, her early morning catching up with her. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

><p>"This is the sixth time you've sent the contract back, Mason. What the hell else could you want?"<p>

Elena groaned and rolled over, keeping her eyes closed as she tried to get comfortable again. She had been sleeping peacefully and her body desperately wanted to return to its former state of slumber.

"You've lost your damn mind. No one is going to give you all you can eat access to burritos. Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?"

Elena flipped over onto her back, her eyes still closed as she tried to place the voice that had broken into her sleep.

"No, Mason. They're pissed off as it is that you keep making demands. Sign the contract I sent you this morning and enjoy your new position as spokesman for your favorite canned soup."

There was something vaguely familiar about that voice.

"Just sign it, Mason. You send that contract back again, and you'll lose the deal all together. You think I'm pissed off now? Blow this deal, and you'll see what me pissed off actually looks like."

The side of the bed sunk down just as her sleep addled brain connected the dots. Damon. Her eyes fluttered open and met Damon's icy blue ones looking down at her, a smile on his face even as he held his phone to his ear, listening to whoever was on the other end of it.

"Get over it," he said into the phone. "You're getting a handsome payday and primetime commercial action. I'll put burritos on your rider for the commercial shoot if you want one so damn bad." He leaned down and kissed Elena softly. "Hi," he whispered.

"Hey," she replied, smiling. He kissed her once more and then held up a finger to indicate that he wouldn't be much longer. She nodded in response.

"Take it or leave it, Mason."

Elena sat up in bed and crossed her legs. She ran a hand through her tangled hair and wished she looked more presentable than she was sure she did right then. Damon looked at her and rolled his eyes, pointing towards his phone. She chuckled, aware of his ongoing contract battle with one of his clients who had turned out to be demanding as he landed his first national endorsement deal.

"I'm done talking about it," Damon stated. "You sign the contract by end of day tomorrow. You don't sign it, you lose the contract. Their rules, not mine." He reached out and put a hand on Elena's knee, squeezed it gently. "End of story, Mason. I'm hanging up now. Sign it or lose the deal all together. Your call. I still get paid either way."

True to his word, Damon ended his call and tossed his phone aside. With a groan he laid back on the bed, his head in Elena's lap. "I hate that guy," he informed her.

"Then why do you keep working with him?" Elena asked. She ran her hand through Damon's thick hair.

"He makes a lot of money. And in turn, I make a lot of money. He's really not all that bad, so long as there isn't an endorsement deal involved."

"And yet, you hate him."

"Right now? Yes."

"Did I hear right about him wanting unlimited burritos?"

"Yep," Damon confirmed. "As part of this soup endorsement deal, he wants all you can eat burritos. Because that makes sense. I've never been able to confirm it, but I think he might enjoy a little recreational drug use that results in binge eating."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"It could cost him everything," Damon confirmed. "I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to be working with him. He goes through agents like you and I go through chewing gum. If he doesn't sign this deal, I'm done. If he does sign this deal, I'm done once we meet all the contractual obligations."

"You sound so cutthroat," Elena teased.

"I sound like I haven't had a proper kiss from my girlfriend in nearly a month," he replied. Elena laughed, leaned down and kissed him deeply. He groaned when she pulled away. "That hit the spot," he stated. He sat up and moved so he was propped up against the headboard beside her.

"Welcome to Dallas," Elena smirked.

"Indeed," Damon agreed. He leaned over and kissed Elena yet again. "Want to get some dinner? I'm starving."

"What time is it?" Elena asked. She glanced over at the bedside clock and saw it was nearly six o'clock. "I slept the entire afternoon," she added.

"Good," Damon replied. "You'll have plenty of stamina for all the things I plan to do to you tonight."

"Don't you need to get some sleep?" Elena asked. She had already noticed that Damon looked more exhausted than ever, the dark circles heavy under his eyes.

"I napped on the plane," he replied with a smirk. "There wasn't any wifi on the flight. No one could reach me." He looked proud of that fact and Elena thought it was sad that Damon had to resort to flights that spanned half the country in an effort to check out for a while.

"And then you landed," Elena guessed. Damon sighed and nodded.

"And then I landed," he confirmed. "Mason alone had left three messages, sent an email and I didn't bother counting how many text messages he sent."

"So, dinner?" Elena asked, changing the subject in an effort to distract Damon from work for a while, knowing he needed a break. "I ate a salad for lunch. Lettuce doesn't stick to the bones. Maybe you can take me to that Whataburger place you were so excited about the last time you were here?" Damon grinned.

"Elena Gilbert, I just fell even more in love with you," he declared. With that, he was on his feet and pulling Elena to hers. He held her to him and kissed her one more time. Laughing, Elena pulled away.

"Give me five minutes," she said. "I just want to freshen up after my nap."

"So that means a half hour," Damon grumbled under his breath. Elena scoffed and gave him a look. He laughed and swatted her behind as she passed him en route to the bathroom. He settled into a nearby chair to wait, his phone back in his hand as he navigated through his email. He heard the water turn on in the bathroom and a small smile graced his lips. Elena was with him. The world was suddenly a little more right.

* * *

><p>Elena sat at the dinner table, doing her best to not look bored. She pushed around the food on her plate, wishing desperately that the chicken drowned in too much rich sauce and roasted vegetables with too many spices would magically turn into a juicy burger and fries. The meal she and Damon had shared at Whataburger the night before, seated at plastic booths and dining out of plastic containers, beat this meal any day.<p>

Beside her, Damon laughed at something the portly man seated across from him said and Elena smiled tightly, reaching for her glass of wine as she feigned interest. The woman seated on her other side chatted animatedly with the one other woman at their table about a society event in DC they had plans to attend in a couple of weeks, some $1,000 a plate function to raise money for a charity that would allow those in attendance to feel better about themselves or, in Elena's opinion, get in one last tax deduction before the year's end.

Back in Mystic Falls, she would be at Jenna and Ric's right now, baking pies and playing with Ella, preparing for Thanksgiving dinner the next day. Ric would be drinking bourbon and cursing the holiday for the amount of fuss it involved, all while secretly enjoying the family atmosphere. They would order in pizza to save from having to use the stove for anything besides meal prep for the next day and stay up well past Ella's bed time, using the next day's dinner prep as a farce to sit around and enjoy one another's company and a bottle of wine.

But instead, she was in Dallas, at a business dinner with Damon. He had sprung the invitation on her hours earlier, telling her some of the Redskins management wanted to get together for dinner to discuss Harper's contract. She'd had to run out and find a dress, having packed nothing formal enough for the restaurant they had reservations at. Damon had waited impatiently for her to finish getting ready, even tapping his foot at one point, despite the fact that the restaurant was directly across the street from their hotel, and had spent the whole of the evening schmoozing the men at the table, all of whom seemed to be willing to give him the world and all the money in it in exchange for Harper James staying with their team for another five years.

Harper wasn't present, citing the need to watch game film, eat a lot of carbs, and go to bed early ahead of the next day's big game. Elena found herself desperately wishing that he was. He would have provided her with entertainment or, at the very least, a friendly face to talk to. She had ended up having lunch with him while Damon had gone off to play golf with someone else from the Redskins camp. She had been sitting alone in the hotel's dining room when Harper had spied her and made himself at home at her table, a teammate in tow. She had been grateful to see him then as he had unknowingly saved her from death by boredom. At the moment, she was even more grateful to see the waiter approaching with dessert, signaling that their night was drawing to a close.

Under the table, she felt Damon's hand land on her knee. His fingertips started to dance upward along her thigh. She placed her hand over his to stop it. He shot her a questioning look, but she squeezed his hand in return and he took that to mean all was well. She ate her too rich chocolate cake, making polite remarks when necessary and wondering why Damon had taken it upon himself to order for her. She hadn't really wanted dessert in the first place, but had it been up to her, she would have opted for the cheesecake.

A wave of relief washed over her as the check came and one of the Redskins high ups picked up the tab, making a joke about business expenses and write offs that made the table laugh. Elena managed a weak smile and pretended to busy herself with looking for something in her clutch to hide the fact that she really just wanted to roll her eyes. She allowed Damon to take her hand and help her to her feet and made sure to thank the man who paid for dinner, even though she couldn't remember his name.

"We'll talk about the finer points next week, but I think we've reached a tentative deal, young Salvatore," the man who had paid the bill said.

"I believe we have," Damon agreed. He extended his hand. "I'll send a preliminary contract over next week."

"Please do," the man replied. He looked around at the group. "Join me for a nightcap at the hotel bar?"

"You read my mind," Damon said, clapping the man on the shoulder. Elena bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from saying something she was going to regret. As a group, they crossed the street from the restaurant to their hotel and once in the lobby, the group started for the bar area, the two women a few steps ahead and breaking off to go their own way, still deep on conversation about their holiday social agenda. Elena paused, drawing Damon's attention away from his conversation. He looked at her.

"Elena?"

"I'm going to head upstairs, call it an early night," she said. She turned to the man that had paid for dinner. "Thank you, again, for dinner. It was wonderful."

"You're most certainly welcome!" he said jovially. "You sure you don't want to join us? You certainly make Damon look a lot more attractive, just by standing next to him." Elena smiled although she felt far from friendly.

"Damon can hold his own without me," she said politely. "You gentleman enjoy your nightcap."

"If you insist," the man replied. "It was a pleasure, Elena."

"I'll meet you at the bar," Damon told the men as they resumed their path towards the alcohol. He turned to Elena when they were out of earshot. "You okay?" he asked. Elena nodded.

"Just tired," she said. "It's been a long day." Damon's eyes narrowed. To his knowledge, Elena had slept in, had lunch with Harper, and then went shopping. He didn't know what was so "long day" about that.

"I don't believe you." Elena sighed.

"Go, have a drink," she said. "I'll see you upstairs."

"You're mad," Damon stated.

"No, I'm not mad. I'll be bored out of my mind if I stay for a drink. You go network or schmooze or whatever it is you're doing. I'm going to go up to our room, change into something comfortable, and read for a while." Damon looked torn.

"It'll just be one drink," he said. Elena got the impression he was bargaining with her in an effort to appease her. "Then I'll be up."

"It's fine, Damon," Elena said with a shake of her head. "Besides, I should probably call Jenna. She texted me earlier with all sorts of questions about pie recipes."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Elena said. She lifted herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed Damon's cheek. "I'll see you in a bit." Damon responded by pressing his lips to her forehead briefly.

"I'll be up in a bit," he said, already turning towards the bar. "Do me a favor?" Elena looked at him, waiting. "Draw us a nice, hot bubble bath." He winked at her, leaving her standing in the lobby with a blush coloring her cheeks.

* * *

><p>"Elena! Hi!" Elena was surprised by the sense of comfort she felt at the sound of her aunt's voice.<p>

"Hey, Jenna," she replied. "I got your texts. You didn't start on that pecan pie yet, did you? Because you were incredibly wrong…"

"No, not yet," Jenna said. "I did manage a pumpkin pie unscathed, however. Or, at least, I think I did. We'll see how it tastes, but Ric doesn't have a lot of confidence in my baking. Apparently, we should have made you bake everything before you left yesterday." Elena smiled sadly on her end.

"I miss you all," she said, knowing she could confide in her aunt. "It's weird, not being home with you."

"It's weird not having you here," Jenna admitted. "But you're with Damon, on your first trip together, celebrating your first Thanksgiving as a couple. Not to mention the fact that you're going to one of the biggest football games of the year tomorrow. If you can't be here, at least you're with someone you love, doing something exciting."

"Well, I'm in the same city as Damon, so I guess that's something," Elena said dryly. Jenna knew her niece well and knew instantly that something was wrong.

"Everything okay?" she asked gently.

"Yeah," Elena said with a sigh. "Or, well, I mean, yeah, everything is fine."

"That's super convincing."

"I'm fine, Jenna," Elena said with more conviction. "It's just… Damon is here, but we haven't had a chance to spend much time together. His flight was delayed for hours yesterday. When he finally got here, we grabbed some fast food, came back to our hotel, and he crashed, which he needed. He hasn't been getting a lot of sleep lately. But then he was up and out of bed early this morning, working. Then he took off golfing with some of the Redskins coaches or something and when he got back, he dropped a business dinner on me. I had to run out and find something to wear and Jenna, Ric's classes on the Civil War are more entertaining than that dinner was."

"I highly doubt that," Jenna scoffed.

"It's true," Elena insisted. "Damon and the Redskins manager or whoever those people were talked about nothing but football and the only other two women at the table knew each other and talked about all of their DC society events and Christmas plans. Now, Damon is downstairs at the hotel bar, having a nightcap with them while I'm sitting around our hotel room. By myself. Again."

"Elena, one of Damon's biggest clients does play for the Redskins," Jenna reminded her gently. "You had to know he would be working at least part of the time."

"I know," Elena admitted. "And I was invited to get drinks, but I knew I'd be bored to tears. I just… I guess I let myself get carried away with thoughts of spending some quality time together. I haven't seen him in almost a month. He'll be working most of tomorrow and then we'll have Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant. Hopefully, he'll be all mine on Friday and Saturday. I've missed him."

"I know you have," Jenna said. "And I'm sure he's missed you too. Just remember, as much as he may love his job and hanging out with pro athletes, you ultimately have all the power." Elena frowned.

"I do?"

"Honey, if you want his undivided attention, all you have to do is take your clothes off," Jenna told her seriously, making Elena blush on her end of the phone. "And then, he's all yours."

* * *

><p>Damon let himself into their hotel room as quietly as he could. He winced when he saw the lights turned off, the bedroom of their suite lit only by the flicker of a late night television show. He toed his shoes off as silently as possible and all but tiptoed into the bedroom. Elena was in bed, her back to the door. Unsure of whether she was awake, he gingerly sat down on side of the bed.<p>

"Elena?" he whispered. She didn't reply. "Elena?" he tried again. Still nothing. He carefully laid down beside her and slipped an arm around her with the intentions of pulling her against his chest and holding her for a while before he changed into something more comfortable.

"Don't," she mumbled, pulling away from him. Damon sighed.

"Hey," he said gently, "I'm sorry." He tried to put an arm around her again, but again, she pulled away. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "Time got away from me."

"I'm trying to sleep," Elena replied. Damon bit his lip to keep himself from saying anything more. He knew he was in trouble, had known he would be when he ordered another drink after promising Elena he'd be up to their room after one. But he had hoped a few carefully chosen words and a well-timed kiss or two would get him back in her good graces. It seemed like it wasn't going to be that easy.

"I love you," he told her. He leaned over and kissed her cheek before getting up and heading into the bathroom. He took his time getting ready for bed, giving Elena some space to cool off while trying to think of a way to smooth things over. Thinking, however, was made difficult by the damp towels hanging up and a few candles scattered around the bathtub which had been lit and since blown out, clear signs that Elena had, indeed, drawn them a bubble bath. In the end, he returned to their bedroom and slipped under the covers beside her without much of a plan besides trying to say he was sorry yet again.

"I love you too," Elena muttered into the dark as he slid closer to her. "Just – stay over there. I need to be mad for a while."

Damon didn't reply, remembering what he'd told Elena about calling him out on his behavior. It seemed she was taking his request to stay mad at him seriously. With a sigh, he turned the television off and laid in bed, gazing at the ceiling and listening to the sound of Elena breathing. When her breaths had been even for a stretch of time, he knew she was asleep. He carefully rolled onto his side and put his arm around her, pulling her into his chest. He kissed her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Elena sighed in her sleep and he tightened his arm around her. He couldn't figure it out, but even with her right next to him, he felt like she was further away than ever.

* * *

><p>For the second time in less than 12 hours, Damon found himself tiptoeing quietly into the suite's bedroom. He carefully placed the tray he was carrying on the nightstand on Elena's side of the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress.<p>

"Elena," he said softly, his fingertips lightly trailing along her cheek. "Time to wake up." She groaned. "Rise and shine," he encouraged, his hand moving through her hair.

"Damon?"

"I'm here," he said, his tone still soft. "I've got breakfast. Let me see those beautiful brown eyes." Slowly, Elena's eyes fluttered open. He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. He was sure she was still unhappy with him about the night before, but he couldn't help but marvel at her now.

"Hey," she said, her voice scratchy. She stretched her arms over her head.

"Hey," he replied. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Want some breakfast?"

"Did you already order room service?" she asked, still groggy.

"I did," he confirmed. "Waffles, fresh fruit, whip cream… You told me it was your favorite breakfast food when we went to brunch before you left New York. I can order something else though." He would figure out how to bring her the moon if she asked for it, whether she was upset with him or not.

"No, waffles are great," Elena said quickly. "Have they delivered yet?" she asked as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Damon grinned and reached for the tray. Her eyes lit up as she realized what was going on. "You brought me breakfast in bed?"

"Technically, I brought us breakfast in bed," he said as he settled the tray over her lap. "Mine is still out in the living room."

"Well, go get it," Elena instructed. "Have breakfast with me." Damon smiled, glad she seemed to have slept off her anger.

"Be right back," he said with a wink. He disappeared into the living room and returned a few moments later with a tray of his own. He sat down on the bed carefully and arranged himself so he was sitting close to Elena, his own tray now over his lap.

"Even though I know you're doing this because you feel bad about last night, thank you for breakfast," Elena said.

"I would have ordered us breakfast either way," Damon replied. "But the hope that it's buttering you up a little bit is admittedly present."

"It is," Elena confirmed. "Speaking of, what happened to 'one drink and I'll be right up' last night?"

"I had every intention of coming up after a drink," Damon said. "But they just kept talking and every time I tried to leave, they reeled me back in. I wanted to be here, with you, but until Harper's contract has permanent ink on it…"

"You needed to stick around and kiss their asses," Elena said bluntly. Damon smirked at her choice of words, surprised as always by Elena.

"I was going to put it a bit more eloquent, but yes."

"So, just go ahead and tell me now, are we going to actually get to spend any time together this weekend?" Her tone was testy and Damon knew he was treading on thin ice.

"We're together right now," he said suggestively. Elena pierced him with a look that told him it was the wrong thing to say.

"I mean time together that doesn't involve sex, sleeping or food." Damon knew what Elena meant. She wanted – and, frankly, deserved – his undivided attention.

"Well, we have the game this afternoon," he started and Elena nodded.

"I'm pretty much counting today as a wash," she told him. "But there's still tomorrow and Saturday. And Sunday morning."

"Today isn't a total wash," Damon countered. "We'll go to the game and yes, I'll have to schmooze and escort Harper through press and all that stuff. But afterwards, I'm all yours. I made us reservations at a restaurant that guarantees an excellent dinner. From there, we can do whatever you want." He waggled his eyes at her. "Wherever you want."

"Are those dinner reservations for two?" Elena asked.

"Who else would be attending?" Damon countered.

"With you, I literally never know," she said. "But since it'll be just the two of us, how about after dinner, we get our dessert to go and come back here, see where the evening goes?"

"I like the sound of that." Damon snuck a kiss on the curve of her neck.

"And then tomorrow, we shop." Damon sat upright and looked at her.

"We shop?" he asked. Elena nodded.

"Shopping is what you do the day after Thanksgiving," she informed him. "Jenna and I go before the sun even considers coming up."

"You can shop any other day of the week," Damon said. "How about we sleep in, go to brunch, see some sights?"

"You said whatever I wanted," Elena reminded him. "And what I want is to go shopping tomorrow."

"Fine," Damon relented, not looking forward to a day of battling crazed Black Friday shoppers. But if Elena wanted to go shopping, they would go shopping. He just wanted her happy. "We'll shop until we drop." He leaned over and kissed her on her cheek.

"We can see the sights or whatever on Saturday," Elena replied.

"I've been to Dallas several times. I've seen the sights. The only sight I really want to see is you, naked."

"Play your cards right and that might happen for you," Elena quipped, making Damon smile. She reached for the television remote and turned the set on, flipping through the channels until she found the local NBC affiliate. Damon had a sneaking suspicion it was the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade she had intentions of watching, not the morning show of talking heads. They finished up their breakfast over idle small talk and Damon took their dishes to leave in the hall for room service to pick up. He returned to the bedroom to find Elena making a move to get out of bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked. He wrapped her up in his arms and fell back onto the bed, taking her with him. "We don't have to leave for the stadium for another few hours."

"I was going to take a shower."

"We can take one in a minute."

"We?" Elena asked.

"You heard that right."

"I may not let you in the shower with me."

"But you should."

"Why?" Elena countered.

"I can wash your back," Damon said seriously, drawing a laugh out of Elena. He smiled and nuzzled her neck. "I'm sorry about last night. And I'm sorry I have to apologize, yet again."

"I could have been a little more understanding," Elena ventured. "This is a business trip for you. You were doing what you have to do." She had woken up in the middle of the night to find Damon clinging to her in a fitful sleep. She had laid awake for a while, thinking.

Damon had to work. Even though it was a holiday, one of her favorites, he didn't exactly get the day off. One of his biggest clients was playing in one of the biggest games of the year and he had to be "on." He had to be the sports agent. She needed to be patient and know she would have her time with him.

"It is," Damon agreed. "But I asked you to come here with me. You were a good sport about dinner last night, but you were bored to tears…"

"I wasn't bored," Elena protested.

"Elena," Damon said, giving her a knowing look. Elena sighed.

"Fine," she relented. "It was awful. The food was bland and the women at the table were self-centered and full of themselves. But I did try to be good sport about it, as you put it, because I knew it was important to you to make a good impression on those people."

"And you were wonderful," Damon told her. "Just hang in there with me today, okay? The moment the post-game press conference is over, you and I are out of there and this trip will officially change over to pleasure, not business. Deal?"

"Deal," Elena confirmed. She glanced at the clock and then turned back to Damon. She smiled coyly. "So," she started, standing. She removed the plain white t-shirt she had taken from Damon's suitcase to sleep in, leaving her standing before him in nothing but a pair of panties. "I'm going to take a shower."

With that, she turned and walked into the bathroom, making it a point to wiggle her hips a bit more than usual. Just as she thought he would, Damon sprung from the bed. His hands were on her before she made it to the bathroom door.

* * *

><p><strong>These two really do love each other. That's not the problem. Logistics is the problem. Elena has been so patient for so long, but how much more can a girl take? <strong>

**Next update? Thanksgiving! **

**Please let me know what you thought of the chapter!**


	26. Thanksgiving

**It truly blows my mind, how you all have responded to this story. I had no idea when I posted the first chapter that it would be so well received - or that it would become something I'm so proud of. Thank you so very much for reading and reviewing! **

**I've been working on the final few chapters/updates (which are a number of updates for you all!) and I LOVE what I'm writing. I hope you all will too, when you get to read it! **

**Some of you have asked about the letter Giuseppe left for Damon. That hasn't been forgotten. Not at all. ;) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries**

* * *

><p>She should have known.<p>

She really should have known.

She loved Damon. She did. But he didn't seem to understand the definition of "just the two of us."

It wasn't that she didn't like Harper. Or any of his teammates she had met that evening. But she had allowed herself to believe she and Damon were going to have a pseudo Thanksgiving dinner, just the two of them, and so she had been hard pressed to fake delight when he told her they had been invited to join the team for dinner to celebrate their overtime win. She hadn't had much choice in the matter and it hadn't helped that they had already missed their reservations, thanks to the extended game and subsequent extended press conference.

Tired and cranky, she sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed and called the only person she wanted to talk to at the moment.

"Hey!" Jenna answered. She sounded happy, Elena noted, as she realized she probably was. Jenna had spent the day with family, eating a traditional Thanksgiving Day meal and drinking too many glasses of wine.

"Hi," Elena replied, trying to disguise the sadness in her voice.

"We saw you on TV!" Jenna said excitedly. "Just briefly, but they panned over one of the boxes and there you were! Ella was so excited."

"That's great," Elena said with a fake smile. "Is she already in bed?"

"She crashed hard about an hour ago," Jenna confirmed. "She was up early and didn't take a nap today."

"I was hoping to get to talk to her," Elena admitted. She picked at the nonexistent lint on the bedspread. "I missed her little face today." Jenna had sent her a photo of Ella, dressed in monogrammed, Thanksgiving-themed smock dress, a big bow in her hair, and Elena had felt a sharp pang of loneliness, even in the crowded reception area of the stadium suites.

"You okay?" Jenna asked, picking up on Elena's lack of enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I'm find," Elena said with a shake of her head. It was a holiday. She decided not to burden her aunt with another round of complaints about Damon's lack of attention to their relationship. "It's been a long day. I'm just tired."

"Liar."

"I'm fine," Elena said again, this time trying to sound more convincing.

"Are you trying to convince me? Or yourself?"

"I really am fine," Elena insisted.

"Where's Damon?" Jenna asked, already sure she knew where her niece's mood was stemming from. "We didn't see him in the box with you. Ric certainly hit rewind enough times to check."

"He's down at the hotel bar, I think," Elena said. "The team and all of their agents and publicists and managers and coaches and everyone else remotely connected to the Redskins organization is still celebrating the win today."

"It was a big win," Jenny stated.

"It was," Elena agreed. "It was exciting." And it had been. She wasn't the biggest football fan, but she had enjoyed the game, had gotten swept up in the excitement of two bitter rivals, playing down to the wire in two overtimes before the Redskins came away the winner. But it hadn't quite made up for what a bust the overall day had turned out to be.

"But?" Jenna prompted. Elena got up from the bed and ventured over to the window to look out over the Dallas skyline. She didn't hear the suite door open and close softly.

"But it wasn't the Thanksgiving I was expecting," Elena admitted. Her back to the bedroom door, she was unaware of Damon's arrival. He stood just outside the door, listening. He had picked up that Elena wasn't as happy as the smile she had worn all evening said she was. He knew she would lie to him if he asked, or at least sugarcoat the truth. Eavesdropping may have been wrong, but he wanted to know how Elena really felt.

"Maybe it makes me selfish, but Damon and I had plans for dinner," Elena said into the phone, finally voicing her frustration. "We missed our dinner reservations since the game ran over. We ended up eating with the team, which was loud and obnoxious. Dallas fans kept passing through the restaurant booing and taunting. I didn't really know anyone so I had to make small talk with strangers which just got awkward after a while. And we had steak, Jenna. Steak. For Thanksgiving. You don't have steak on Thanksgiving."

"It could have been worse," Jenna ventured, trying to make Elena feel better. "You could have had a microwavable dinner?"

"At least there would have been turkey," Elena muttered. She wrapped her arm not attached to her phone around her waist, still gazing out the window. "This is the first time I've spent Thanksgiving away from my family, you know? I've always made it back to Mystic Falls for the holidays, even when I lived in New York. It was always going to be hard, being away from you all. But I thought, spending it with Damon, it would be okay." Damon felt a pang of guilt that he hadn't even considered how much Elena might miss her family, but remained hidden in the shadows, still listening.

"You're in love with a man who has a big job," Jenna reminded her. "And frankly, Damon is a guy. He probably didn't think to consider the fact that his girlfriend might not want to spend her Thanksgiving dinner with a bunch of football players, eating steak and drinking beer. I'm assuming there was beer?"

"Beer, liquor, wine… And I know, Jenna. I know Damon has a big job and even more, I know it's important to him. His passion for what he does is one of the things I love most about him. I just… I wish he could table the sports agent persona, even the mill persona, for just a few hours. We had breakfast in bed this morning and it was wonderful. He promised me he was all mine after the game. But I'm alone in our hotel room on Thanksgiving night and he's downstairs, downing bourbon with the quarterback."

Damon rubbed his hand over his face. He knew he should interrupt, should make some sort of noise to alert Elena to the fact that he had returned, maybe even exit the suite quietly and return, this time announcing his arrival. But he couldn't. He was frozen in place, absorbing everything he was hearing.

"You need to talk to him, Elena," Jenna advised. "I keep telling you that, but it's what you need to do. You can't expect him to read your mind."

"I don't expect him to be able to read my mind," Elena told her. "I've tried to talk to him. It's just that he has enough on his plate with being an agent and running the mill. He doesn't need me demanding his time too."

"But you deserve his attention too," Jenna said gently. "I know you love him, Elena, and I know he loves you. It's not hard to miss, with the way he looks at you. But he needs to know how you feel. You keeping it all bottled up? That's not going to help in the long run. You can't keep waiting for Damon to be less busy or less distracted or less whatever. You have to tell him how you're feeling. I know you. You'll sacrifice your own feelings to save the feelings of the people you love. You can't do that, Elena."

"I know," Elena admitted. She sighed. "I miss you guys." Damon bit his lip, feeling inadequate in that moment. He only wanted to make Elena happy and it seemed his was failing miserably at that, a fact that, he realized, shouldn't have been all too surprising, given the strain that had been on their relationship lately.

"We miss you," Jenna said. "Tell you what, come over on Monday evening. We'll have a pseudo Thanksgiving. I'll see if Bonnie and Jeremy can make it too, if you want." Elena smiled.

"That would be wonderful," she said. "Give Ella a kiss for me?"

"Of course," Jenna said. "I should go. I'm planning to be up in exactly three hours to head to Charlottesville to do some shopping." She paused. "I'm going to miss my shopping partner this year."

"I'm going to miss shopping with you too," Elena replied. "We're supposed to go shopping tomorrow, but who knows if we'll make it that far? The team is scheduled to fly back to DC, but with my luck, some freak storm will ground all flights and we'll be eating cheeseburgers as a group again." Jenna chuckled at Elena's dramatics.

"Talk to Damon," she advised once more. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks for listening, Jenna."

"Anytime," Jenna said. "I love you, Laney."

"Love you too," Elena replied. She turned off her phone and breathed out a deep sigh. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and then moved towards the bathroom to get ready for bed, figuring there was nothing else for her to do.

Outside the bedroom door, Damon remained rooted to his spot, debating. He had three options. He could go into the bedroom, tell Elena he had heard everything, and talk things out with her. He could go into the bedroom and pretend like everything was fine and spend what was left of their weekend trying to make things up to Elena without her ever knowing what he was doing. Or he could retreat and return later, pretending nothing had happened.

As the sink turned off, he made his decision. He slipped out of the hotel suite, Elena none the wiser.

* * *

><p>It was late.<p>

It was fast approaching midnight and the bartender was giving him looks of pity, probably thinking he was a lonely bachelor with no one to spend the holiday with. In that moment, Damon reasoned the man wasn't far from the truth.

For the first time in far too long, he was alone with his thoughts. Ever since the reading of his father's will and his return to New York, he had been stuck in overdrive, bouncing from business trip to business trip, conference call to lunch meeting. When he wasn't on a call or a plane, he was reading emails, sending emails. He was signing payrolls and ordering office supplies and authorizing invoices and approving new hirers. When he finally made it to his bed at night, he fell asleep almost instantly, seizing the chance to sleep for a handful of hours like the gold that it was.

He was exhausted.

He had to make some decisions. He had taken over the mill without much of a plan. He'd had to. He had fully expected the place to go to Stefan, right along with the Boarding House, and so when he it had been placed in his care, he'd had no choice but to pick up the reins and try to figure out where to go next. The house had gotten little of his attention, his thought process being that as long as Stefan was staying there at least some of the time, there was someone to keep an eye on things on that front.

Somewhere along the way, in the days when his father had still be alive and Mystic Falls had been nothing but a part of his past, he had gone from an independent sports agent to having his own small firm. He hadn't really intended for that to happen, but he had needed a secretary to keep up with his schedule and then he found he needed help with some of his lesser known clients and somehow, he now had a small team of people reporting to him. He didn't even have an official name for his firm. People just called it "Damon Salvatore" and he operated with that.

He loved being an agent. He was good at it. He was sought out by talented athletes just as much as he went in search of them. But he didn't exactly hate the mill either. He didn't know why, but the place had grown on him. The work wasn't glamorous, but it was honest. It had been built on a foundation of good people and he found himself appreciating that more than anything else. He knew he wouldn't give up being an agent, but he couldn't see himself letting go of the mill either, even if current circumstances made it impractical to keep both.

Then there was Elena.

He felt like a pinball, the way he was bouncing from one emotion to another while trying to process what he had overheard. He had known, deep down, that she was miserable in Dallas. She had made it a point to ask him, more than once, if she would have his full attention at any point during the trip. She had also been more than understanding of the fact that it was a business trip for him and had largely gone along with any change of plans, including the night's reservations, without complaint, even though he had seen the look of disappointment in her eyes when he had told her they would be joining the team instead of dining together, alone. He realized then that he hadn't given her a choice in the matter.

Part of him wanted to be angry, or at the very least, annoyed. If she was feeling lonely or neglected, she should have talked to him, not Jenna. He shouldn't have had to come across that knowledge by eavesdropping. She also needed to understand that this was, in fact, a business trip. He couldn't just walk away from the team owner or the head coach, just because his girlfriend wanted turkey instead of steak. It was selfish of her to think that.

Except she was anything but selfish. Which, he knew, was part of the problem. She was letting him run rampant, taking her for granted while plowing through his constantly growing to do list and networking his way through Thanksgiving. She was apparently trying not to add anything else to his plate when really, she was doing the exact opposite.

He loved her. Of all the things he was unsure about, the fact that he loved her was the one thing he knew to be absolutely true. She was the sole bright spot in his life, his one sense of comfort in the midst of his fast paced world. He needed her, something he struggled to admit, even to himself.

Their relationship was a house of cards.

He loved her and she loved him, something he didn't doubt. But they led very different lives. He knew Elena would never leave Mystic Falls. She was happy there. It was where she needed to be. On his part, his agency was based out of New York. It was as close as he'd ever gotten to putting down roots. His feelings towards Mystic Falls had softened, but he wasn't exactly willing to pack up his high rise and move back to the small town. As much as he loved her, he was starting to wonder if that was enough.

Sighing, he picked up his phone and unlocked it. He wasn't surprised to find there were no texts or missed phone calls from Elena, wondering where he was. As he scrolled through his contacts to find the number he was looking for, he decided the glass of bourbon he had in front of him would have to be his last for the night. If he was dialing this particular number, he had clearly had enough to drink.

"'Lo?" came a sleepy voice.

"Hey, baby brother," Damon said into the phone. There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

"Damon?" Stefan said eventually, sounding confused.

"One in the same." There was rustling on Stefan's end of the phone. Damon heard a door shut.

"Everything okay?" Stefan asked, sounding more awake.

"Peachy," Damon replied.

"Then why are you calling me at nearly midnight on Thanksgiving?" Stephan retorted, annoyed at being raised from a deep sleep because his wayward older brother suddenly wanted to chat.

"Can't a big brother call his little brother to say happy Thanksgiving? Or should we start saying Merry Christmas? The stores have been decorated for weeks."

"Big brothers call their little brothers all the time," Stefan said. "But you don't call me. Ever." Damon sighed, not really sure why he had called his brother in the first place. Except he knew exactly why Stefan had been the person he'd called in the moment. He was the only family Damon had and right then, he needed – someone. He was just too proud to admit.

"I think I'm losing Elena," he confessed in a rush of words, forcing them out before he lost his nerve. "And I don't know what to do about it." Stefan sighed.

"I was wondering where she was if you were calling this late," he said. "What's going on?"

"Long story," Damon responded. He picked up his bourbon and swigged.

"I can't help if I don't know what's going on."

"I'm not sure you can help regardless."

"Damon, you called me," Stefan reminded him. "We both know you don't call me. You don't even reply to my text messages. So if whatever is going on between the two of you is big enough to get you to pick up the phone and call me, it's big. So skip the backpedaling and start talking." Damon sighed, figuring he may as well spill his guts now that he'd gone through the trouble of calling.

"I overheard her talking to Jenna tonight," he admitted. "She's miserable. She misses her family. I made her spend Thanksgiving a couple thousand miles from them, eating steak with football players. So far, the only real quality time I've spent with her was taking her to Whataburger Tuesday night. Fast food in plastic booths. Screams romance."

"So Elena is miserable and misses her family and you're where, right now?" Stefan asked. He knew without Damon telling him that he was somewhere without Elena.

"A bar down the street from our hotel," Damon confessed. He knew he should have stayed at the hotel and let Elena know he heard her conversation with Jenna. If he had handled things the mature way, they could have talked things out and found a way to work through their problems. With luck, he'd be making love to her right now. Instead, he had tucked his tail between his legs and left rather than face their problems.

"Why?" Stefan prompted.

"I'm a coward," Damon conceded. He took another swig of burbon.

"Go back to your hotel, Damon," Stefan advised. "Apologize. And figure out what you want."

"I want Elena." It wasn't a question.

"Do you?" Stefan countered. "Because you don't act like it." Damon frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his tone full of challenge.

"You're sitting at a bar on Thanksgiving while your girlfriend – who is upset and already feeling lonely – is all by herself in a hotel room. If you want Elena, you need to prove it. She's doing her part, Damon. She's giving you space to do your job, trusts you blindly, even if your past is reason enough for her not to. She flew all the way to Dallas to spend the holiday with you. You have to live up to your end of the deal. I know you're important or whatever. But she's important too. Say no to someone besides Elena. Have dinner with her instead of her and the entire Redskins organization. Get what I'm saying?"

"We had dinner reservations tonight," Damon protested, feeling like he needed to defend himself. "We lost them since the game ran over…"

"Then you find somewhere else to eat, Damon," Stefan said, growing frustrated. "You don't subject your girlfriend – the same girlfriend who had already spent the entire day sitting on the sidelines while you did your thing – to dinner with a bunch of football players."

"This is why I suck at relationships," Damon muttered.

"Just go back to the hotel, Damon," Stefan said. "And spend some time with your girlfriend."

"How's Chicago?" Damon asked, switching gears completely. For the second time during their phone call, Stefan was surprised.

"How'd you know I was in Chicago?" he asked. "Not like we talk much these days – not that we ever did."

"You told me when we went to that burger place," Damon reminded him. On his end of the phone, Stefan nodded, remembering the brief cease fire that had led to them having an actual, enjoyable, dinner, bonding over burgers and beer the night before the reading of their father's will.

"It's good," he said. "Rebekah's family hasn't chased me off yet, at least."

"Give them time," Damon statedd. He took out his wallet and put a few bills on the bar. "I should go."

"Back to the hotel?" Stefan asked.

"I'm already on my way," Damon told him.

"Good," Stefan said. "Happy Thanksgiving, Damon," he added genuinely. Damon sighed.

"Yeah," he said. "Happy Thanksgiving."

* * *

><p>Damon let himself back into their suite several minutes after hanging up with Stefan. During the short walk back to the hotel, he had formulated a plan. He stopped in the lobby long enough to put it in motion and now, was preparing to ask for forgiveness, yet again.<p>

He took his shoes off just inside the door and removed his dress shirt, leaving him in an undershirt and black dress pants. With a deep breath, he entered the bedroom. Elena was nowhere to be found. Panic started bubbling as he imagined a scenario in which she had left without a word before he saw the door to the balcony was open. He found her there, seated on one of the two chairs with her knees pulled to her chest, looking out over the city lights.

"Where have you been?" she asked, not bothering to turn towards him. Her tone was testy. He took up the other chair.

"At a bar down the street," he admitted.

"That's nice," Elena said evenly. He sighed.

"I heard you talking to Jenna," he confessed, figuring it was best to go ahead and lay his cards out for her to see. "She's right, you know. I can't read your mind."

"You heard that?" Elena asked, finally turning to look at him. He nodded.

"I came up from the bar with intentions of going to bed with you, but I found out you're miserable and don't want to tell me."

"I'm not miserable…"

"Stop, Elena," Damon said, his voice raising a notch. "You have hated every minute of this trip, but rather than tell me, you've been sulking in our hotel room or calling Jenna."

"When was I supposed to tell you?" Elena countered. "You've spent every spare minute working or socializing with all of your important contacts. When was I supposed to get a minute to say 'hey, Damon, I know this is important and all, but do you think you could at least have dessert with me?' I don't even get a say in when or where we have dinner!"

"You're right," Damon replied. "I have been working the entire time we've been here. Working is what I do, Elena. But again, I can't read your mind. I can't know that you're annoyed or that you don't want steak for dinner, if you don't say something. I get in a groove and I stay there. You have to make the effort to interrupt me."

"Don't put this on me," Elena warned. "I'm not the one taking my girlfriend for granted."

"No one is blaming you for anything," Damon said, trying to keep his temper in check. "I'm just trying to explain that you can't play the martyr. I'll keep doing what I'm doing until you call me out." Elena stood and started to pace in an effort to work through her nervous energy.

"You want me to call you out?" she asked. "You want me to tell you exactly how I feel?"

"Yes!" Damon exclaimed. He roughly pushed a hand through his hair. "Tell me. Because I have no freaking idea otherwise."

"Fine," Elena said, rounding on him. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I feel neglected. I feel like I don't matter. I feel like I'm here for you to have sex with in between football games and nightcaps. I feel like I should have stayed in Mystic Falls and had Thanksgiving with my family rather than coming here and spending the holiday virtually alone."

Damon stopped his kneejerk reaction to go on the defense, knowing he would just say thing he didn't mean. Instead, he stood and approached Elena, stopping just short of her. He had to choose his next words carefully if he didn't want her on a plane back to Mystic Falls without him.

"Do you know what I did at the bar?" he asked.

"Judging by the smell of your breath, you had more than your fair share of bourbon," she shot back.

"I did," Damon admitted. "But I also called Stefan. Can you guess what I told him?"

"Who knows?" Elena said with a shrug, although she was surprised to learn he had called his brother. "Although chances are good he got to talk to you longer during that phone call than I have this entire trip."

"I told him that I think I'm losing you," Damon told her, ignoring her underhanded comment. "And that I don't know what to do about it." Elena faltered. That was the last thing she had expected him to say.

"Damon…," she started softly. He shook his head.

"No," he said. "I'm going to talk, you're going to listen." He waited until she nodded.

"I love you," he said. He took her face in his hands. "I love you. And right now, in this moment, I am terrified. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to wake up in the morning and be just Damon again. I want there to be an us. I need there to be an us. You have every right to be upset with me right now. I'm not denying that or downplaying how you feel. But, I need you to stop making excuses. I need you to stop sugarcoating things because you're worried about how much I have on my plate. I need you to tell me how you feel. And I need you to fight for us. I'm going to fight for us, but I need you to do the same."

"I love you too," Elena said as tears made her eyes sparkle. "I want there to be an us too. I don't want to lose you either, Damon. But this is hard and I feel like I'm doing all the work."

"You have been doing all the work," Damon admitted. He let his hands move from her face, running them down her arms to land on her waist. "I didn't really realize it until tonight, but you are. I need to pick up the slack."

"I don't want to be selfish," Elena said, trying to explain. Damon shook his head.

"You are the most selfless person I know," he told her. "I want you to start being a little selfish, at least when it comes to me."

"I'm sorry you had to overhear me talking to Jenna," Elena said. "I should have told you how I was feeling."

"And I'm sorry for taking you for granted," Damon replied. "I didn't even consider that you might not want to hang out with a bunch of football players or eat steak on Thanksgiving. They're good guys, but they aren't the most civilized bunch, especially when high on a win."

"A few of them were downright charming," Elena said, a small smile threatening her lips. "One of them even asked for my number." Damon frowned.

"Which one?" he demanded. Elena chuckled.

"I have no idea," she admitted. "Harper walked up, called him a fool, and dragged me off to the dessert table."

"I should try and get him a second parking space for that," Damon said, only half joking. Then he frowned. "Where was I during all of that?" Elena shrugged.

"Talking to someone," she told him. Damon shook his head.

"Well, no matter," he said. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "Forgive me for how this trip has turned out so far?"

"Of course," Elena said. "And I promise to fight for us. I love you, Damon. I'm not willing to lose you over a few business meetings." Damon pulled her even closer.

"And I'm not willing to lose you over them either," he said. He leaned in and kissed her softly. "Hell of a first holiday as a couple, huh?" he asked when he pulled away, their arms still around one another.

"It could have gone better," Elena admitted. Damon ran a hand through her hair.

"How about a do over?" he proposed. Elena frowned.

"A do over?" He reached into his back pocket where he had tucked a haphazardly folded piece of paper.

"I know you want to go shopping tomorrow, but I would like to place another option on the table, with the promise of a shopping trip on the day of your choice." He handed her the piece of paper. She took it, sparing him a curious look as she unfolded it. He watched anxiously as her eyes grew big.

"A receipt for two plane tickets to Charlottesville?" she asked, confused.

"Flight leaves at 6AM. We have five hours to get packed, check out, get to the airport, go through security and board the plane. If you want to, of course. It's your decision. I just thought that, since you missed your family and all, maybe we could spend the remainder of the holiday weekend in Mystic Falls. I'm even willing to throw in a turkey dinner, cooked by yours truly."

Elena looked at Damon, hardly believing what he was saying.

"Really?" she asked. Damon nodded.

"I've never actually roasted a turkey, but it shouldn't be too hard. I can cook most everything else. Of course, we may have to wait until Saturday. By the time we get back to Mystic Falls and I go to the grocery store to get everything we need, I don't think we can have a Black Friday Thanksgiving." The turkey would never cook in time." Elena shook her head.

"I mean going back to Mystic Falls," she said. "You'd be willing to do that? I thought you wanted to spend the weekend in Dallas?"

"I want to spend the weekend with you," Damon countered. "I don't care where that is. I just want you to be happy." A single tear rolled down Elena's cheek. Damon reached out and wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

"Let's go home," she said with a nod, reaching for him. He enveloped her in his arms and breathed her in.

"I already am home," he said. "You're my home. Don't forget that."

* * *

><p><strong>These two... Elena knows Damon is stretched thin and she's trying to figure out the best way to handle it. Damon knows he's screwing up, but he just can't get his priorities in order. But before you're <em>too <em>hard on Damon, remember, he really hates Thanksgiving - more on that next update! **

**Their relationship is on shaky ground. They know it. They love each other though and don't want to give up. But really, how much longer can they have this same argument? Elena has way more patience than me... **

**And - as much fun as Damon and Elena are to write, I'm finding I really love writing Stefan and Damon. **

**I love how Damon refers to Elena as "home." **

**Let me know what you thought! **

**I think you all will really enjoy the next update... **


	27. Pictures

**I know we don't like long author's notes, but friends, I have to tell you something. I am really, really proud of this story. In the last couple of weeks, I have worked on it during every spare moment and I absolutely love how it is turning out as I write out the final chapters (still several chapters away for you all, don't you worry!). When I started this story back in January, I figured it would be something fun to do, just to pass the time during an abnormally snowy winter for Virginia. Instead, it became a body of work that I'm just PROUD of. It has been a beautiful, slow burn, with real romance and real feelings and real struggles and just enough drama to be realistic. No sudden tragedies or freak accidents. Just real life. ****  
><strong>

**So thank you. Thank you for reading and reviewing and sending me messages and inspiring me to keep going. This story is as much for you as it is for me at this point. Thank you! **

**Now, let's get to a belated Thanksgiving celebration, shall we?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>"What's all this?"<p>

Damon looked up from the casserole dish he was sprinkling with breadcrumbs to find Stefan standing in the kitchen doorway, Rebekah visible behind him.

"And what are you doing here?" Stefan continued. "I thought you and Elena were spending the weekend in Dallas."

"Change of plans," Damon replied. He opened the oven door and deposited the casserole on its racks. "Elena missed her family. And since I will do whatever it takes to make her happy, we flew back to Mystic Falls yesterday. Now, I'm cooking a belated Thanksgiving dinner." He eyed his brother. "What about you? Aren't you and the Brit supposed to be in the windy city?"

"Stop calling me that!" Rebekah chirped. "Is Elena here?"

"In the media room, I think," Damon replied. He went to work peeling potatoes while Rebekah kissed Stefan's cheek and turned on her heel to find Elena.

"We always planned to come home today," Stefan said, answering Damon's question about why he was in Mystic Falls instead of Chicago. He moved into the kitchen and leaned on the kitchen island opposite Damon. "I have to work tomorrow."

"Well, dinner is at six sharp," Damon informed him.

"Bex and I were planning to go out…"

"Nope," Damon said, cutting him off. "If you have reservations somewhere, cancel them. If you promised the Brit a fancy night out, let her down easy. Caroline and Tyler, Jeremy and Bonnie, Jenna, Ric and Ella, they're all coming. Seeing as the theme of the guest list if 'people who mean something to Elena', you and Rebekah will be gathered around the dinner table as well." There was a conviction in Damon's voice that Stefan had never heard before. Wordlessly, he crossed the kitchen and removed a knife from the carving block. He took up his spot across from Damon once more, picked up a potato and started peeling. Damon raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"I'm assuming you and Elena worked everything out?" Stefan asked. Damon nodded.

"We talked," he said. That was all he offered.

"Bringing her home to Mystic Falls and making a Thanksgiving dinner was a nice touch," Stefan commented, trying to pry more out of his brother. Damon always did everything big, but even for a grand gesture, flying back to Mystic Falls, preparing a full, be it belated, Thanksgiving dinner and demanding attendance from everyone Elena considered her family, he was going over the top. Stefan was curious as to just how big their fight in Dallas had been.

"It made her happy," Damon replied. "It was an easy decision to make. Now, tell me the truth, did the Brit's family run you off?"

"Seriously, stop calling her that," Stefan said. "And no. They actually weren't all that bad."

"They did meet you, right?" Damon countered with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, shut up!" Stefan shot back, throwing a potato peel at Damon. He missed his mark, the potato peel hitting the wall behind Damon. Damon chuckled.

"Did you meet the rugby brother?" he asked.

For the next several minutes, the brothers worked their way through the potatoes while Stefan told Damon about meeting Rebekah's family, the rugby brother included. Damon put the potatoes on to boil and moved on to prepping the macaroni and cheese.

"You good here?" Stefan asked. "If half of Mystic Falls is coming over for dinner, I'd like to take a shower."

"I'm good," Damon confirmed. "Let the record show that the men did the cooking while the girls did – whatever they're doing." They had heard the occasional burst of laughter from Rebekah and Elena but hadn't seen so much a trace of them while they worked, the pair confined to the media room, gossiping and watching trash reality shows.

"I say we make it our bargaining chip come time for after dinner clean up," Stefan proposed. Damon held up a mixing spoon in salute.

"I like the way you think, brother." Stefan grinned and nodded his head once. He was nearly out of the kitchen when Damon spoke again, his voice gravely. "Happy birthday, Stefan." Stefan stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Damon. Slowly, he nodded.

"Thanks," he said seriously. Then he smiled sadly. "That's the first time you've ever said that." Damon shrugged a shoulder as though it wasn't a big deal.

"27th year's a charm, I guess."

"Guess so," Stefan nodded. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then just shook his head. "I'll make it quick," he said. "Just in case dinner gets out of hand."

* * *

><p>Damon wasn't sure how he ended up cross-legged on the floor of the media room, a princess-themed version of Candy Land laid out in front of him, but that had turned out to be the after dinner entertainment. Ella was seated in his lap while Elena sat across from them, grinning as Ella moved her princess to the next orange spot on the board.<p>

"You turn, Day-Mun!" Ella said happily. Damon smiled tightly at the little girl's enthusiasm and pulled a card out of the deck. He moved his own princess figurine to the next red square and groaned audibly while Ella shrieked in delight and Elena laughed heartily, as did the rest of the room, everyone else seated comfortable on sofas and chairs, watching the game unfold.

"You gots a dragon!" Ella said. "You lose turn!"

"Again," Damon said dryly, making Elena laugh harder. Damon's cross mood had nothing to do with the fact that he was spending his Saturday night playing a toddler's board game and everything to do with how poorly he was playing it. They had made it so Ella would win handily, but he had fully expected to beat Elena. Instead, he kept landing on dragons and poison apples, losing turns and being sent back spaces while Elena slowly advanced along the path.

"You turn, Laney!" Ella directed. Elena pulled her card and moved ahead on the board. They went through the rotation a couple more times before Ella finally landed at the princess castle, proclaiming her the winner.

"Good job, Ella!" Elena said, reaching across the board to high five Ella.

"I winned!" the toddler said excitedly, giving her aunt a sloppy high five.

"You sure did," Damon grumbled.

"Damon is a poor sport," Ric piped up from where he was sprawled comfortably on the couch, his arm around Jenna who was tucked into his side.

"I'd be too if I were a grown man who just got beat by a three year old at a princess game," Stefan added. Damon glared at them, but bit back the witty comeback that had formed on his tongue as it wasn't appropriate for the toddler in the room to overhear.

"Good work, munchkin," he said, jostling Ella a bit in his lap. "How about some more birthday cake?"

"Cake!" Ella repeated.

"Oh no," Jenna said, sitting up on the couch. "It's already way past her bedtime. No more sugar."

"It's a holiday," Damon said, standing up and taking Ella with him. "Let her eat cake."

"Are you going to be in charge of putting her to bed tonight?" Jenna countered. She looked over at Ric. "And are you going to help me out here?" Ric shrugged.

"It's a holiday," he echoed. "Technically, it's two holidays – Thanksgiving and Stefan's birthday."

"Thanksgiving was Thursday," Jenna pointed out.

"We're celebrating it again," Ric replied.

"I want cake!" Ella demanded.

"You've done it now," Elena muttered, now on her feet next to Damon. Damon just grinned at her before turning back to Jenna and Ric.

"Tell you what," he said. "I'm feeling generous. Ella, do you want to spend the night here with Aunt Laney?" Elena raised an eyebrow as did most everyone else in the room. Even though Ella had taken to Damon almost instantly, he still wasn't one people would consider child friendly. Except Ella had managed to worm her way into his heart the night he had met her at the fall festival and now, he made it his mission to spoil her just as much as Elena did.

"I can spend da night?" Ella asked, her eyes wide with excitement. "Here? In the castle?"

"Castle?" Damon asked, looking around the room for an answer. He was getting better at translating Ella's toddler speak, but "castle" was too far out of his grasp of the three year old language.

"She kind of thinks the Boarding House is a castle," Ric admitted. "She was throwing a tantrum a couple months ago on the way home from the grocery store. We drove by, I told her to look at the castle… You know, big house, gated, all that stuff. It stuck with her. She thinks you live in a castle. Which is probably why she likes you so much."

"Ah," Damon said, nodding in undertanding. "In that case, yes, you can stay here, in the castle."

"Can I?" Ella asked her parents. "Pretty please wif a cherry on it?"

"I don't know…," Jenna said, biting her lip.

"She'll be fine," Elena said. She was a bit surprised by Damon's offer, but was also touched by it. It seemed he loved her niece as much as she did. "We'll keep an eye on her. She'll be perfectly safe."

"It's just that she's never spent the night away from home…"

"Jenna, babe, they're offering to take the kid for a night," Ric said, pointing out what he thought was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's not like you've never spent the night away from her. Elena's kept her overnight a dozen times. And she has too spent the night away from home. She's stayed at Elena's and at Jeremy's."

"But they're family…"

"Did you miss the part where Elena is staying here too?" Ric asked. "And Damon is as good as family." Damon swallowed past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

"She'll be fine," he said to Jenna. "We'll ply her with sugar, let her jump on the furniture, and give her ice cream for breakfast."

"Fine," Jenna relented, even as she glared at Damon. "But only because it's your fault she's completely wired." Ella cheered, making everyone in the room laugh.

"Come on, kiddo," Damon said. "Let's get that cake." He reached out, grabbed Elena's hand and pulled her with him out of the room.

"You do realize you just agreed to keep Ella overnight, right?" Elena asked as Damon sat Ella on a barstool and went to work slicing her a piece of cake. "And that after all the sugar you've given her, she's going to be up all night?"

"I know what I'm doing," Damon said, glancing over his shoulder at Elena. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"You do?" she asked. She was fairly certain the few times Damon had spent time with Ella were his only experience with children of any age, whatsoever.

"I'm being the coolest…," he stopped, searching for the right phrase, "…aunt's boyfriend ever. Part of the job description is to give her sweets and play kiddie games."

"Is being a sore loser part of that job description too?" Elena asked with a coy smile. Damon flashed her a dirty look, making her giggle. He placed a slice of cake in front of Ella.

"Want a piece?" he asked Elena, cutting himself a slice. She shook her head.

"I'm never eating again," she informed him. "I ate my weight three times over tonight."

"So, that's what?" he asked. "Like, sixty pounds?"

"Oh, hush." Damon chuckled and joined Ella at the bar with his own slice of cake. Ella hummed happily to herself, making a mess of her cake as she shoveled it into her mouth. Elena leaned on the counter, watching two of the people she loved most. "Funny how that birthday cake showed up," she commented.

"Rebekah…," Damon started.

"Had nothing to do with it," Elena cut him off, giving him a knowing look. "You baked Stefan a birthday cake."

"I didn't…"

"Damon."

"It's just a cake," he said. "Nothing special."

"Mmm hmmm." Damon looked at her.

"I don't like you," he stated.

"You do love me though," Elena countered, grinning.

"I do," Damon agreed. "More than anything." He leaned over and kissed her lightly. Then he stabbed a piece of cake with his fork and offered it to her. She rolled her eyes, but took the cake.

"Just so you know, you get to stay up with her tonight," she said, nodding towards Ella. Damon looked over at Ella who was still humming to herself as she used her fingers to pick up cake crumbs and then back to Elena.

"She's three," he said. "How hard could it be?"

* * *

><p>"She cannot go on much longer," Damon stated, watching as Ella bounced from one sofa to the other and back again in the media room, shrieking with laughter every time she went airborne.<p>

"Hmm," Elena replied, her lead lolling on Damon's shoulder. It was nearing midnight and Ella was still going strong, the sugar from all the sweets Damon had given her throughout the evening keeping her riding a sugar high that showed no signs of coming down.

"That was you agreeing, right?" Damon asked. Elena grinned at the note of helplessness in his voice. She knew from experience that Ella could be bouncing off the walls for a while to come. "She's going to crash soon, right?"

"Eventually," Elena confirmed. She looked up at Damon. "Would it be rude of me to say I told you so?"

"It would be," Damon retorted. "She's never getting anything other than an apple from me ever again." Elena chuckled, just as Ella let out a high pitched shriek.

"Maleficent is gonna get me!" she cried before bolting from the room. Damon let out a curse word as Elena moved away from him so he could chase after Ella. They had an unspoken agreement that he was in charge of wrangling the child, given that it had been his idea to feed her half a bakery and let her stay the night.

"Never again," he muttered as he followed the sound of Ella's little footsteps running through the first floor of the Boarding House. Elena chuckled again and pulled her knees up to her chest, getting cozy as she waited for Damon's return. She heard Ella shriek again, followed by the sound of her giggle mixed with Damon's voice, trying hard to be the disciplinarian. Elena didn't have to know what he was saying to know he was failing miserably. He returned a few moments later, Ella tossed over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" Ella demanded, her small feet kicking the thin air.

"No more running out of the room," Damon reminded her as he put her on her feet. "And keep your voice down. Other people in this house are getting the opportunity to sleep." Ella was off like a shot before he completed his sentence, resuming her bouncing from sofa to sofa.

"Told you so," Elena quipped as Damon lowered himself onto the couch next to her.

"Not funny," he growled, reaching for her. He pulled her into his lap and tickled her lightly, making her laugh.

"Stop!" she gasped, pushing at him. Laughing, Damon ceased his tickling and held her tight against his chest. She sighed contently. "Thank you for doing this."

"Doing what? Offering to babysit your niece? Because that was a momentary lapse in my usually sound judgment." Elena shook her head.

"This," she said. "Bringing us back to Mystic Falls, having everyone over, cooking dinner. And for offering to watch Ella." She knew Damon was secretly enjoying having Ella around, despite his current state of frustration.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy," Damon told her, his hand lazily working through her hair. "I love you, Elena."

"And I love you," Elena replied. She leaned up and kissed his cheek before settling back against his chest. Ella had moved on to playing with one of the toys she'd brought along with her for the evening and was momentarily content. "You know, it really was sweet of you to bake that cake for Stefan. It meant a lot to him."

"He's my brother," Damon said quietly. He didn't say anything else. Several moments passed before either of them spoke again.

"You want to talk about it?" she asked softly. It had hit her like a ton of bricks when they had drove up to the Boarding Houses the day before. Thanksgiving wasn't a time to celebrate and be with family for Damon. It was the anniversary of his mother's death. Even though 27 years had passed and the actual date of her death and Stefan's subsequent birthday rarely fell exactly on Thanksgiving Day, the holiday and the days around it were still hard for Damon. Some of his recent behavior in Dallas suddenly made a lot more sense and she felt guilty that she hadn't thought of it before now.

"I'm okay," Damon replied, knowing what she was referring to. "It's a little easier this year." Elena nodded, knowing that was all she was going to get out of Damon on the subject. She rested her head on Damon's shoulder as he casually drew small circles on her back, comforted by her close proximity. Ella continued bouncing around the room, having the time of her life. Despite the shrieks and fits of giggles from Ella, it was peaceful, comfortable. Elena was so content that she rested her eyes for a moment, the scene of Damon's cologne filling her nostrils.

"You going to fall asleep on me?" Damon asked softly after a few minutes.

"No," Elena mumbled as Ella let out yet another shriek. "Just resting my eyes." She felt Damon smile against her hair.

"Sure you are," he said before raising his voice a bit to tell Ella to put down a picture frame. The next thing Elena knew, she was being carried through the boarding house.

"What…?" she asked groggily. She stirred, trying to get her bearings.

"Shh," Damon hushed as he started to climb the stairs, his arms tightening securely around her. "I'm tucking you in."

"Hmm," Elena hummed back, tightening her grip around Damon's neck, not sure how her arms had wrapped around him to begin with. Too soon, she felt the loss of Damon's warmth as he gently laid her on his bed.

"Go back to sleep," he said softly as he pulled blankets around her. She remembered Ella then.

"Ella…"

"Is still awake, but I'm starting to see cracks in the armor," Damon answered. "She's going to crash any minute now. I'll bring her up here and tuck her in beside you once she falls asleep." He leaned down and kissed Elena's forehead. "Love you, Lena."

"Love you, too."

* * *

><p>The silence that had fallen over the Salvatore Boarding House was a welcomed reprieve to the uproar the house had been in for most of the day. Even though the clock had ticked into the early morning hours of Sunday, Damon was seated on the comfortable leather couch in the living room, using the dim light of the still burning fireplace to flip through a photo album he hadn't lifted the cover on in years. He wiped at his eyes as he studied the pages, doing his best to push back the burning sensation that felt an awful lot like tears. He was so engrossed in the photos that he didn't hear soft footsteps approaching.<p>

"You still up?" Stefan's voice broke through the quiet.

"Shhh," Damon said instinctively. He looked over his shoulder to find his groggy brother in pajamas standing behind the couch. He jerked his head to wear Ella was sleeping soundly, sprawled out on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, her favorite blanket draped lightly over her by Damon several minutes earlier. "You'll wake it." Stefan chuckled.

"How long did it take for her to crash?" he asked quietly, moving further into the room. He and Rebekah had retreated upstairs just after eleven and Ella had shown no signs of stopping anytime soon.

"She's only been down about thirty minutes," Damon replied just as softly. "I'm giving her another few minutes before I move her. Making sure she's good and passed. Moving her now would be like poking a sleeping dragon." Stefan chuckled.

"She's got you wrapped around her tiny little finger," he told Damon.

"It's her aunt that has me wrapped around her finger," Damon replied. "Ella is merely reaping the benefits." Stefan shook his head, knowing both aunt and niece had Damon at their beck and call. He turned to rib Damon about his poor display of sportsmanship following his Candy Land loss earlier, but his eyes fell on the photo album still open in Damon's lap.

"Mom's photo album," he stated. "I haven't looked at that thing in years."

"Me either," Damon replied, his fingers running over an old photo of his mother and father, taken before he was born. "Seemed like a good day to pull it out." Stefan nodded solemnly.

"I wish I could have known her," he said with a sad shake of his head. He had only ever admitted it to Rebekah, but there was a part of him that was jealous of Damon for getting six whole years with their mother when he hadn't gotten even a single hour.

"She was amazing," Damon told his brother. He paused for a moment as though drawing the courage to say something. "I'm sorry you never got the chance to know her." Stefan indicated the photo album.

"May I?" Damon nodded and passed it to him, watching as Stefan flipped back to the beginning of the book which held photos of their mother from her teenage years. She was a classic beauty, her skin flawless, her smile big and genuine. Neither brother spoke as Stefan flipped slowly through several pages, taking each one in. He stopped when he reached one of their mother holding a newborn Damon. "You used to be so cute," he finally said. Damon chuckled.

"I really grew into my looks," he said. "I mean, I was good looking back then, but now…" Stefan shook his head with a faint grin on his face. He flipped another few pages, most of them featuring photos of a young Damon. He turned the page again, this time revealing photos from the first Christmas Damon could remember. "Mom nearly burned the house down that year," he told Stefan, nodding at the photo.

"Yeah?" Stefan looked at his brother, eager for any new detail he might get about the mother he never knew, but missed all the same.

"She lit all these candles one night, a few nights before Christmas. We were watching Rudolph or something like that, one of those Claymation Christmas movies. It was starting to get late and she stretched her hands over her head, yawning. She knocked over a candle that was on the table behind the couch. It rolled and landed on the floor, just on the edge of the carpet. The carpet went up like a gas-soaked match. She screamed, grabbed me around the waist and fled, took us straight out into the front yard. Dad kept his wits about him though. He grabbed a blanket and stuffed it out. Mom bought a new rug the next day and aside from birthdays, I don't think she ever lit another candle."

"Dad really loved her, didn't he?" Stefan asked, his eyes drifting to another photo on the page of their parents at what appeared to be the Salvatore Timber company Christmas party, both dressed in their finest, smiling broadly, each with a glass of champagne in their hand.

"Entirely," Damon confirmed. "We should all be so lucky to find someone we love as much as Dad loved Mom."

"You found that with Elena," Stefan said knowingly. Damon slowly nodded.

"And you have too, with Rebekah." Stefan shrugged.

"I love Rebekah," he said. "I can't picture my life without her. But our relationship isn't like yours and Elena's. Anyone in a room with the two of you can feel your connection. It's real. It's fated."

"I don't know why she puts up with me," Damon admitted, sitting back on the couch. He shook his head. "Something has to give. We keep having the same fight about me and my inability to prioritize, at least not when it comes to hear. It's going to end badly if I don't come up with a solution that will make everyone happy soon."

"Got any ideas?" Stefan asked. Damon shook his head.

"I've got plenty of ideas," he said. "I just don't know which one is the right one." Stefan continued to flip through the book, listening to Damon as he took in each photo.

"Want to run any of them by me?" Damon looked at Stefan.

"Why are you awake right now?" he asked, realizing for the first time that it was strange for Stefan to be up so late, especially after a day that had included a fairly early flight from Chicago and a Thanksgiving dinner.

"Don't tell Bex, but she snores," Stefan answered. "Most of the time it's pretty tame and I sleep through it. But when she's had a few too many glasses of wine – like tonight – she sounds like a freight train. I figured if I couldn't sleep in peace, I'd come down here and watch a little bit of TV, maybe crash on the couch to get a few hours of sleep before I have to head to work and deal with her in the morning when she's mad because I chose to sleep on the sofa instead of with her."

"You really think I'm not going to make fun of the Brit for snoring?" Damon asked. Stefan rolled his eyes, knowing there was no point in asking Damon not to. He flipped the page of the photo album again, this time revealing what looked to be Easter photos.

"Want to run any of those ideas by me?" he prompted again. Damon sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"I have three options," he stated. "One, I keep things exactly as they are, which for obvious reasons isn't an option at all. Two, I move back here. Or, three, I convince Elena to move to New York."

"And?" Stefan prompted.

"I can't keep going the way I am," he admitted. "And not just because of the strain it's putting on my relationship. I'm exhausted all the time. There's never enough time to get things done. I've almost missed the deadline for signing off on payroll for the mill twice. I've got Pete and HR and the office assistant calling me all the time, asking me to make decisions and sign off on things. I've got clients who need contracts negotiated, press asking for interviews, athletes looking for representation. It's gotten to a point where my favorite part of any day is a day in which I get to be on a damn airplane with no wifi because it means I have the duration of the flight to not do a damn thing. Except I'm usually reading a contract or looking at spreadsheets on my iPad."

"Pete gets impatient when he can't reach you," Stefan ventured. "He calls me, looking to get in touch with you. I've tried to tell him I won't have any more luck getting you to answer the phone, but he never buys it." Damon sighed.

"I don't mean to ignore your calls," he said. "Or your texts or emails. I just know they're probably mil or house-related and with everything else coming at me, I can't deal with you nagging too." Stefan nodded as though in understanding although he didn't quite accept the excuse from Damon.

"And the other two options?"

"I'll never get Elena to move to New York," he said. "She's been there, done that, has the I heart New York t-shirt to prove it. She loves visiting the city, but she would never be happy living there again."

"And what about you moving back here?" Damon shook his head.

"I can't," he said. "My life is in New York. My business is there. I love what I do. I can't give it up."

"What about the mill?" Stefan continued. Damon shook his head again.

"I don't know," he said, a note of frustration in his tone. "I just don't know." It was simple as that. He didn't have any answers, despite a growing list of questions.

"Maybe you should talk to Elena," Stefan suggested. "See where she stands on moving to New York someday. You might think you know what she would say, but you won't really know until you ask."

"Maybe," Damon said with a shrug as Stefan flipped the photo album page yet again, revealing photos of their parents celebrating their 10th wedding anniversary as he neared the end. Their mother was pregnant with Stefan, her baby bump large enough to be just visible. "I guess there's a fourth option," he ventured.

"Which is?" Stefan asked.

"Quit everything, kidnap Elena, and live on some remote island where phones and the internet don't work and we have catch our dinner every night." Stefan snorted.

"You'd last a day," he said. "Elena could tough it out longer than you."

"Probably," Damon admitted. Stefan flipped to the very last page of the album. He stopped, taking in the photo before him, just as Damon let out a surprised gasp.

"I've never seen this one," Stefan said, holding the album up to examine the photo closer in the rapidly dimming fire light.

"Me either," Damon said. He sat up and turned on the lamp at the end of the sofa. He remembered he still needed to buy Elena a lamp to replace the one he'd broken in his drunken stupor the night his father's will was read. He leaned closer to Stefan, studying the photo.

Maria Salvatore stood on the steps of the Salvatore Boarding House, very pregnant and smiling so brightly she was practically glowing, even in the aging photograph. A hand rested over her very swollen belly, an overnight bag at her feet. Damon recognized the dark pink coat she was wearing and the blue dress that peeked out from underneath it.

"That's the day you were born," he told Stefan, his voice choked. "I remember exactly what she was wearing that day. She smelled like pumpkin. She'd been baking pies for Thanksgiving dinner when she went into labor. I was helping, getting things out of the pantry that I could reach and licking the spoons. Dad must have taken this right before they got in the car to go to the hospital. He must have put it in this book, too."

Silence fell over the brothers as they stared at the last photo of their mother, taken mere hours before she died. She looked so happy, so thrilled to finally be meeting her second child, her son. There was no hint, no clue to be found, that she would never return to the Boarding House.

"I miss her," Stefan finally said, his voice barely a whisper. "It's not like I ever knew her I just – miss her."

"She was your mom," Damon said just as softly. "You have every right to miss her." Stefan nodded.

"Thanks for the birthday cake," he said in a choked up voice.

"It was just a cake," Damon replied.

Stefan closed the photo album and blew out a deep breath. An unspoken apology for years of tensions drifted between the brothers. Stefan placed the book on the table, almost as a sign that the slate between the two had been wiped clean.

"You ever read that letter Dad left for you?" he asked Damon.

"No," Damon answered with a shake of his head. He had found the letter, along with papers from Chester, on the kitchen island the day after the reading of their father's will while recovering from his brutal hangover and wallowing in the shame he felt for his behavior. He had assumed Stefan had left it there. He had dropped it into his nightstand drawer that day and hadn't seen it since, although it had crept into the edges of his mind a time or two.

"You should read it," Stefan prompted. "See what he had to say."

"I should take Ella upstairs," Damon said, blowing out a breath and dismissing Stefan's suggestion entirely. He had no desire to find out whatever his father's parting words were.

"Yeah, I should head back upstairs too," Stefan agreed, letting the letter go, at least for the night. He pushed himself off the couch.

"What happened to crashing on the couch?" Damon asked as he stood and padded softly over to where Ella was sleeping soundly.

"Not worth the argument in the morning," Stefan said with a grin. Damon chuckled. He bent down and carefully scooped up Ella who didn't wake up, but snuggled into his chest. He could practically feel his heart expand. "You're good with her," Stefan commented.

"She's a kid," Damon replied. "Play a few games, give her a piece of cake, and she's your best friend." The two brothers started up the stairs without another word, Stefan trailing a few steps behind to turn off lights. Upstairs, Stefan reached his bedroom just as Damon reached his a few doors down.

"Hey, Damon?" Damon stopped and looked his way.

"Yeah?"

"Goodnight." Damon understood the goodnight for what it was. He nodded once in Stefan's direction.

"Night, brother."

With that, he entered his bedroom and gently tucked Ella into bed next to Elena.

"Damon?" came Elena's sleepy voice. She reached for him, but her hand fell on Ella. "She finally sleep?"

"Finally," Damon replied. He leaned over Ella to kiss Elena softly. "She hung tough for a while."

"Hmmm," Elena sighed contently. She snuggled up to Ella. Damon slipped under the covers, wearing far more clothes than he would have liked, but with Ella, he had to keep it PG. "You okay?" Elena asked softly. Damon smiled and reached across Ella to rest his hand on Elena's hip. He squeezed gently.

"I am now."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanksgiving and Damon's lack of attention to it - and subsequently, Elena - in Dallas makes a bit more sense now, yes? Rough time of year for the guy. <strong>

**Rough game of Candy Land too, but Ella is a hard 3 year old to say no to. **

**Family was a big theme - don't look for that to go anywhere anytime soon. ;) **

**Please let me know what you think - I so love reading your reviews! Especially while I'm at my desk, pretending to work... :)**


	28. Enough

**I've been trying to find the time to edit/post this practically since the last update. Blame work - I feel a bit like Damon right now, even though I know my long hours are just until we get these new clients up and running. :) **

**I really and truly can't say thank you enough for your kind words, messages and all the reviews and favoriting. I'm so proud of this story and so relieved its been received so well. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries. **

* * *

><p>Damon loosened his tie as he leaned against the back of the elevator, watching the counter tick upward towards his floor. It had been a long day of meetings, finalizing contracts and discussing year-end bonuses with the mill's finance manager. All he wanted to do now was take off his stuffy suit and stretch out on his sofa with a beer and his remote, ignore his ever growing to-do list.<p>

The elevator deposited him on his floor and he dug his keys out of his pocket, forcing down a yawn as he went. Juggling his briefcase and the heavy winter coat he had shed once he had stepped into the elevator, he unlocked his door. Immediately, his senses were overwhelmed.

First, there was the smell. Something was baking and it made his mouth water almost instantly. Then there was the Christmas tree, set up in front of the floor to ceiling window overlooking the city. It was covered in twinkling lights and bulbs of ever color. He registered the soft hum of Christmas music coming from his surround sound, turned down low. His eyes swept the room, looking for the one thing that was missing.

"You're home!" Elena appeared from the bedroom, dressed down in jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt, her long hair pulled into a pony tail.

"I thought this was my apartment," Damon said, dropping his coat and suitcase in a nearby armchair. "But I don't recall a Christmas tree. Or my oven being used, pretty much ever. It's like I stepped into a Norman Rockwell painting." He had reached Elena by now and pulled her into his arms. "Hi," he added.

"Hi," Elena replied, smiling up at him. He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss.

"I am so glad to see you," he informed her. "Coming home to you is definitely the best part of today."

"There you go again, using those smooth words," Elena replied with a coy grin. Damon chuckled.

"Smooth, but true," he said. "Looks like you've been busy."

"I hope you don't mind," Elena said, pulling away just slightly. "I got bored and you didn't have a single Christmas decoration which was just sad. So, I went out and bought a tree, some lights and a few bulbs."

"A few?" Damon asked with a raised eyebrow. The tree was dripping with brightly colored globes.

"I may have gotten carried away," Elena admitted, making Damon chuckle. He had spent his last full day in Mystic Falls after Thanksgiving helping her take Christmas decorations out of her attic and then listening intently as she told him the stories behind each and every ornament as she unpacked them. He had been fascinated, glued to her every word as she talked on and on, revealing more about herself and her childhood. He wanted to know everything about her.

"It's a nice surprise to come home to," he told her. "Thank you."

"There's also mistletoe," Elena teased. Damon looked up.

"Where?" he asked, ready to put it to the test.

"Not telling," Elena said. Damon poked her in the side, making her laugh.

"And you're making dinner?" he guessed. He had plans that involved him and Elena in a lot less clothing, but he was starving and whatever was in the oven smelled incredible.

"Lasagna," Elena confirmed. "It should be ready soon. And, I already made a salad. I just have to pop in the garlic bread while the lasagna cools enough for us to eat."

"You are the perfect woman," Damon declared. Elena rolled her eyes, kissed his cheek and then pulled away to go check on dinner. She was admittedly playing the part of housewife, but she hadn't had anything else to do with her afternoon besides make dinner and decorate Damon's apartment for the holidays. It was okay to play pretend for a while, to pretend that distance wasn't an issue and that her boyfriend looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.

"I was thinking maybe we could watch a movie after dinner?" she proposed. "_Love Actually _is coming on and its one of my favorites." Damon bit his lip for a moment to stop the words that were about to come out of his mouth. Instead of telling her he had some work he needed to do first, the answer that came almost automatically these days, he nodded.

"I guess I can suffer through a chick flick," he said. The smile that illuminated her face was worth letting a few emails go unanswered. "Need any help?"

"Nope," Elena said. She put on a set of oven mitts Damon wasn't sure he had owned before today. "I've got it all under control." She carefully placed a steaming casserole dish of lasagna on top of the stove to cool. He wasn't sure he had owned a casserole dish before today either.

"I'm going to go change," he said. "You sure you don't need any help?"

"I'm sure," Elena said with a smile.

In his bedroom, Damon made quick work of stripping from his suit and pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a New York Giants t-shirt. A faint grin formed as he opened his closet to hang his suit. Elena's things were neatly lined up next to his, just as though they belonged there. Although she'd only been there two days, she had also taken over his bathroom. There was makeup and face wash on his counter and that morning, he had reached blindly for shampoo, only to be hit by the lavender and vanilla scent of Elena's expensive shampoo.

He loved having Elena in his apartment. It was only the second time she had made the trip to see him on his turf, but as she had from the beginning of their relationship, she fit seamlessly into his life. From the moment he had picked her up at La Guardia, she had made herself at home, sitting beside him on the couch the first night, both in pajamas, their laptops open as they worked, her on book edits, him on any one of the number of projects he had going on. He had her for the week and he planned to make the most of it.

He returned to the kitchen just as Elena was placing a cookie sheet covered in slices of garlic bread in the oven.

"Serious question," Damon said. He sauntered over to the fridge and opened it in search of the beer he knew was in there. "Did I have a casserole dish or a cookie sheet or oven mitts before today?"

"Casserole dish and cookie sheet, yes," Elena confirmed. "They were still in a box under the counter. I bought the oven mitts today after I had to use a balled up t-shirt to get my personal pizza out of the oven at lunch."

"I'm sure today is the first time the oven has ever been used." He twisted the top off the beer bottle and offered it to her. She took it.

"I'm sure it is too," she quipped before taking a swig of her beer. "I had to remove plastic from the oven racks." Damon laughed and opened a bottle for himself. He loved to cook, but never had the time to do it, especially lately.

"How was your meeting?" he asked. Part of the reason she was in New York was for a few meetings with her agent and publisher.

"Fantastic," Elena said with a big smile. "They love the sequel. We're going to push the release date up to March since I finished it ahead of schedule. "

"That's great!" Damon said, returning her excitement. "Can I read it now?"

"No," Elena said with a shake of her head. "You can read it when it's in physical form and no longer a word document on my computer."

"Or, I could read it as a word document on my computer," Damon ventured. Elena shook her head again, grinning. He had been trying to get her to let him read the sequel to _Turning Home _for weeks, even before she finished it. "My iPad then? I'll even sacrifice my eyesight and read it on my iPhone."

"I'll sign a copy for you as soon as it's fresh off the presses," Elena promised. "But I have a job for you while we wait on the bread."

"I have a job for you, if you're interested," Damon said with a suggestive raise of his eyebrow. Elena rolled her eyes and headed towards the Christmas tree, leaving Damon to follow her. She picked up something from the kitchen table and turned to face him.

"I couldn't reach to put the star on top of the tree," she told him. "So, you're up." She passed him a gold, sparkly star.

Damon took it, trying to remember the last time he had decorated a Christmas tree. His mother had still been alive. He had never decorated for the holidays since being on his own, not one to get into the spirit of silver and gold and little drummer boys. His chest tightened as he stretched easily and delicately placed the star at the top of the tree. He stood back to admire his work and Elena came to his side, slipping her arm around his waist. She leaned into him with a content sigh, the whole scene completely picturesque.

"Good job," she told him.

"You approve?"

"I do." He chuckled and leaned down to kiss her quickly. He could never seem to take his hands off of her when she was around.

"I'm glad you're here," he told her sincerely. "It's nice to come home to you after a long day at the office."

"I'm glad I'm here too," Elena told him with a smile. She patted his chest affectionately. "Let's eat."

They moved in a weird sort of synchronization, Elena cutting into the lasagna and plating it while Damon added salad and garlic bread to each plate. They ate at Damon's acrylic kitchen table, talking about their respective days and plans for the remainder of the week. Damon promised to wash the dishes, leaving them to curl up on the couch together to watch _Love Actually. _

Damon tried to pay attention to the movie. But watching Elena watch the movie was far more entertaining. She laughed at the appropriate parts, cried at others. She even whispered some of her favorite quotes as they occurred in the movie. The evening was perfect as far as he was concerned. He was already dreading sending her back to Mystic Falls in a few days and had dreamed up a few extreme scenarios which would keep her with him. When the movie was over, she wiped at her eyes.

"I love that movie," she said with a content sigh. Damon kissed the top of her head.

"Such a sap," he said, making Elena chuckle. He squeezed her affectionately and took a deep breath. "Can we talk about something?" Elena looked up at him from where her head was resting on his shoulder.

"Sounds serious," she said.

"It kind of is," Damon admitted. A wave of nervousness fell over Elena. She sat up and turned so she was facing Damon. He reached over and put a hand on her knee, needing the contact. He had been thinking a lot about his late night conversation with Stefan about the status of his relationship over the last couple weeks. There was a conversation they needed to have and the potential outcome of it terrified him, but now, relaxed in his apartment with a glimpse of what could be, seemed like the right time to bring it up.

"Well, let's hear it," she said. Damon squeezed her knee again. He just had to come out with it.

"Would you ever consider moving here? With me?"

Silence followed.

Elena was caught completely off guard by Damon's question. She hadn't known what to expect when he asked to talk about something, but it certainly hadn't been this. She breathed in a couple of deep breaths, trying to figure out how to answer.

"I… Don't know, Damon," she finally stuttered out. "You caught me off guard."

"I know," Damon admitted. "But I had to ask. I love having you here. I love coming home to you. I hate this long distance thing. The two weeks between when I left Mystic Falls after Thanksgiving and you coming here felt like an eternity. So, I have to ask. I have to see if there is any chance you might consider moving here. You can re-decorate. We can get a new place, whatever. Just – would you consider it?"

More silence followed. In his gut, he knew Elena's answer. He had known it all along. But he needed to hear her say it. He waited as patiently as he could, moving his hand from Elena's knee to take her hand. She squeezed it gently and took a deep breath of her own. Damon knew instinctively what was coming next.

"I'm not going to say never," she said. She watched Damon's eyes widen in surprise. "But Damon, my family is in Mystic Falls. I couldn't imagine not being there to watch Ella grow up. I couldn't imagine not seeing Jenna and Ric or Jeremy and Bonnie whenever I want to after so many years of only seeing them on holidays. Caroline, even though she's moving from Mystic Falls, she'll still just be 45 minutes away and she's my best friend. I need to be able to meet her for dinner. Stefan and Rebekah too. My little makeshift family means everything to me."

"I know you love your family, Elena, but we could…"

"Damon, listen," Elena said, softly but firmly, placing her hand on his chest to stop him. Damon sighed.

"I'm listening," he said, trying to ward off his sour attitude that was threatening to ruin what had so far been a nice evening.

"I love you," she told him with certainty. "So I'm not saying never. But, if I can be completely honest…" Damon nodded, indicating that she should continue. "One day, I want to be a wife and a mother. I want a family of my own. And I don't want that here, in New York City. I want a yard for my kids to play in. I want to be able to load them into my car and run errands, rather than having to hustle small children and bags and everything else in and out of public transportation or try to keep up with them while walking down busy sidewalks. I don't want that part of my life to happen here."

"Then we'll move out of the city," Damon said, still trying to sell her on the idea of living with him. "Long Island, maybe. Or Connecticut, even. I could commute to the city from there…" Elena just shook her head.

"Do you really want to live in Long Island?" she asked. Damon sighed, knowing he'd been caught in that particular stretch of the truth.

"I want you to be in the same place as me, all the time," he said. "If that means Long Island, so be it."

"You'll be traveling," Elena reminded him. "So unless I go with you every single time – which I refuse to do – we'll still be apart."

"You're missing the point," Damon grumbled.

"There are other options," Elena ventured. Damon looked at her.

"Kidnap you and set up residence on a remote tropical island? Done." Elena sighed.

"What about you, moving back to Mystic Falls?" she asked, almost timidly. Damon snorted.

"Not going to happen, sorry."

"Why not?" Elena challenged.

"Because it's not!" Damon exclaimed. "There is not a chance in hell I'd move back there."

"But why not?" Elena tried again.

"I hate that place, Elena." As far as Damon was concerned, it was an obvious answer. Elena shook her

"No, you don't," she told him. "You want to think you do, but you don't. What's the real reason?"

"I just told you…"

"Damon, I explained my hesitancy to move here. You explain why you won't so much as consider Mystic Falls."

"Because it's Mystic Falls!" Damon burst out, dropping Elena's hand. He stood and started pacing the room. "That place has nothing to offer, Elena. It's at least 30 minutes away from everything. There are three restaurants, only one of which has a decent bar, and you can forget about delivery. The one grocery store in town closes before dinner and if you want something on a Sunday – from anywhere – you hope the grocery store has it and even then, you have to get it between the hours of 1 and 6 because that's the only time they're open.

"If I want to so much as rent a $1.00 movie from a Redbox, I have to drive to Charlottesville. Forget actually going to a movie. There's no cell phone reception in half the town and barely high speed internet. The only thing people care about around there is the success of the high school football team, which is always mediocre at best, and whatever that month's town festival might be. There's nothing to that town, Elena. Nothing."

Several moments of silence passed between them. Elena remained seated on the couch, forming her next words carefully. Damon continued to pace the living room, trying to slow his breathing down after his impassioned speech. He chanced a glance at Elena as he passed her. She was deep in thought and, he realized, they were truly at an impasse in their relationship.

"Damon, do you realize everything you just said about why you won't consider moving back to Mystic Falls is materialistic, at best?" she finally said. Damon stopped pacing and turned to look at her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you just went on and on about the lack of food delivery and the fact that the grocery store hours are inconvenient for you. What's the real reason you won't consider moving back to Mystic Falls?" Damon sighed as Elena pierced him with a knowing look. In that moment, he hated how well she knew him.

"I'm thirty-two years old, Elena," he started. "Other than the first six years of my life and the last six months of my life, Mystic Falls has been nothing but a pit of bad memories. Dead moms, dads that don't care, little brothers that walk on water… I put Mystic Falls behind me. I proved my dad wrong when he said I'd never amount to anything. I'm not going back, Elena. That town is in my past."

"That town is where I live," Elena countered. "It's where your brother lives. The same brother that just days ago you were baking birthday cakes for and having late night talks with." Damon looked at her with a raised eyebrow. He hadn't mentioned his chat with Stefan. She looked momentarily guilty. "I woke up and you and Ella weren't in bed. I came downstairs to check on her and overheard you and Stefan."

"Stefan and I may have mended some fences, but we're still not best friends," Damon countered. "I'm not moving back to Mystic Falls, Elena. End of discussion."

There was a note of finality in the air between them. Silence hung heavy, each waiting for the other to speak. Finally, unable to take it any longer, Elena took a deep breath and asked the question the only question left to ask.

"Where do we go from here?"

More silence followed. Finally, Damon sat down next to Elena, took her hand, and squeezed.

"We'll figure it out," he said. "It's not like we have to decide anything right now." It took several moments, but Elena nodded.

"Okay," she agreed. She blew out a breath. "Want to watch another movie?"

"You pick," Damon agreed. He reached for his laptop as Elena reached for the remote.

"You're working?" Elena asked as she settled back against the couch.

"Multitasking," Damon corrected. "I've got a ton of emails to respond to. I'll watch the movie with one eye and read emails with the other." Elena gave him a weak smile and started flipping through the channels in search of something, movie or otherwise, to watch. She had spent the time watching _Love Actually _tucked into Damon's side, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. This time, she sat with several inches between them, her eyes on the TV, Damon's on his computer.

He was still at it when Elena went to bed two hours later.

* * *

><p>"Are you there?" Elena asked.<p>

"Yep," Caroline confirmed. "Bonnie, too."

"Hey, Elena," Bonnie chimed in. Elena breathed out a sigh of relief at the sound of the voices belonging to her two oldest friends.

"Thanks for the pseudo conference call," she said into the phone. She was tucked away in Damon's bedroom, gazing out the window. Snowflakes were falling, but not sticking to the ground far below. Still, they were beautiful as they floated from the sky. "I need to talk."

"Obviously," Caroline said. "Your 'Damon's gone for the day, can we talk ASAP' message didn't sound urgent at all."

"Is everything okay?" Bonnie asked gently, ignoring Caroline. With Bonnie on winter break from her teaching job, she had been able to meet Caroline on short notice so the two could call Elena together.

"Sort of," Elena answered.

"Sort of?" Caroline prompted. Elena blew out a breath, deciding just to come out with it.

"Damon asked me to move here." She had accurately predicted the collective intake of breath that followed.

"What?" Caroline demanded. "When? Are you going to move? Of course you're not. You just moved back to Mystic Falls! You can't move, Elena. It's bad enough that I'm 45 minutes away from Mystic Falls now. You can't be _states _away. Not again!"

"Caroline!" Bonnie hissed. "Calm down! Elena? When did this happen?"

"Two nights ago," Elena admitted. "We watched a movie and when it was over, he asked me if I would consider moving here. I told him I wouldn't say yes, but that I wasn't saying no either."

"So you're considering it?" Caroline asked, sounding offended. There was another hushed reprimand from Bonnie on the other end.

"I don't know," Elena said. "That's why I'm calling. I need to talk. I don't know what to do."

"Have you asked Damon about moving back here?" Bonnie asked. "It should at least be an option you discuss."

"I asked him," Elena confirmed. "He flat out refused. Said he spent his whole life hating that place and while he and Stefan were on better terms and it's my home, he has no intentions of going back there. I think there's more to why he hates the place, but I can't get it out of him."

"I thought he liked Mystic Falls now," Caroline stated. She took it as a personal insult that Damon hadn't warmed up to her town.

"He offered to move to Long Island," Elena continued, ignoring Caroline who, she knew, was beside herself at the thought of losing one of her best friends to the Big Apple. She held her family and friends tight and had a hard time letting them go. "Or somewhere outside of the city. But that's the best he's willing to do."

"What do you want to do?" Bonnie asked.

"She wants to stay in Mystic Falls!" Caroline exclaimed before Elena could answer.

"Not helping, Care," Bonnie retorted. "Elena?"

"I want to be with Damon," she said. That was the one thing she did know. "But living here again… I feel like I just moved back to Mystic Falls. I missed you all so much while I was here. And now that there's Ella too…"

"You have to do what's best for you," Caroline said, surprising both Elena and Bonnie. "I know you love Damon, but this is a really big decision."

"Caroline is right," Bonnie agreed. "Can I be brutally honest?"

"Of course," Elena answered. She had known Bonnie would give it to her straight while Caroline would wail about how she didn't want her to leave again before getting around to giving her what would ultimately be decent advice. Bonnie sighed, signaling to Elena that she may not like what she was about to hear.

"You love Damon," she started. "And Damon loves you. He adores you. Anyone can see it when he's with you. But Elena, you can't forget about the last few months. He's never around. I know you're doing the long distance thing, but how many times have you complained to us about how he never calls, never replies to texts? You get in a fight about it, he does better for a week and then he falls right back into the same pattern."

"But she'd be living with him," Caroline pointed out. "So that would take care of a lot of it."

"Not necessarily," Bonnie replied as Elena listened intently. "Damon works late, right Elena?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "Even if he's not at his office, he comes home and works." She thought back to how he had come home later than usual the night before. She had once again made dinner and he had eaten quickly, trading small talk with her for a few minutes before opening his laptop and resuming work. Things had been off between them since he'd asked her to move in, although they were doing a good job of ignoring the elephant in the room. He had been gone that morning before she woke up and she hadn't heard from him all day.

"Do you think you would be happy living that life?" Bonnie asked gently. "Do you think you could handle his crazy work hours and all the traveling he does?"

"I handle it now," Elena mused.

"It would be different, living with him," Bonnie reminded her. "Right now, you have hundreds of miles between you, so it doesn't matter if he's sitting on his couch working at ten o'clock at night. It's another story when he's right there next to you, nose stuck in a laptop. It's a different kind of lonely."

"I don't know what to do," Elena said with a sigh. "Christmas is less than two weeks away, and instead of being happy and enjoying the season, I'm debating the future of my relationship."

"You love each other," Caroline said with confidence. "You'll figure it out."

"Love isn't always enough," Bonnie said. "I love Jeremy with my whole heart. But a few years ago, when he was in college and I was trying to figure out what to do with my life, we broke up. Remember? We didn't break up because we didn't love each other. We broke up because we needed to find ourselves. Jeremy needed to be a college student and I needed to be a gypsy for a while. We did what was best for ourselves, as individuals. And that's what I think you need to do now, Elena."

"I don't need to find myself," Elena countered. "I don't need to go all _Eat, Pray Love._"

"No, you don't," Bonnie agreed. "But would you be happy in New York, Elena? Whether in Manhattan, Long Island or somewhere else?"

"Maybe," Elena said, although her tone wasn't convincing. "That's the part I need to figure out."

* * *

><p>Elena glanced at the clock at the sound of keys in the doorknob.<p>

8:33 PM.

She closed her book and sat it down on the coffee table just as Damon entered the apartment.

"Hey," she said with a smile.

"Hey," Damon replied with a preoccupied tone. He dropped his briefcase on the kitchen island and shrugged off his heavy coat. "It's freezing out there."

"It's December," Elena reminded him. She stood and crossed the apartment so she was standing in front of him. He leaned towards her and gave her a hasty kiss on the cheek.

"Which means I've got what? Twelve shopping days left before Christmas?" Damon opened his briefcase and pulled out his laptop, placing it on the kitchen counter. Elena raised a curious eyebrow.

"Eleven," she corrected. She bit her tongue to stop herself from asking Damon about Christmas plans, deciding minutes after he got home from work wasn't the right time to do it. He opened his laptop and keyed in his password. Elena eyed it as she made the dinner pitch she'd been planning since her stomach started to growl a few hours earlier. "So, I was thinking, maybe we could go out and grab some dinner? There's that great little Thai place a few blocks down..."

"I've got too much to do," Damon answered. He clicked on a file to open it. "They deliver, don't they? Just order something." He picked up the laptop and moved over to the couch. Elena looked after him, taken back by how quickly he had dismissed the idea of going out, how smoothly he had transitioned from walking through the door to working.

"Come on," she said, following after him. She perched on the arm of a nearby armchair. "I haven't left this apartment all day and you've been working for hours. Let's go get Thai."

"I've got to finish this, Elena," Damon said, his eyes on his laptop.

"Compromise?" Elena proposed. "We walk down to the Thai place, get dinner, and bring it back."

"I can't," Damon said, this time a little less patient. "Just call in an order. It'll be here in under 30 minutes and we don't have to go out in the cold." Elena blew out a breath.

"Damon, you've been gone all day," she said, trying to get him to understand where she was coming from. "I've been here, all day. All I'm asking is for an hour to have dinner together. Then you can go back to whatever it is you're doing." Damon finally looked away from his computer.

"I have too much to do to stop for dinner," he told her with a finality in his voice. "I have to get these contract edits to the Redskins' GM by 10 PM – and that's an extension of the 6PM deadline he already gave me. And then I have to do the mill's payroll by midnight if people are going to get their paychecks on time. Never mind the dozens of emails I haven't had a chance to reply to. You're lucky I came home at all. I only left the office because they're cleaning the carpets tonight."

It was in that moment that the answer to every question Elena had become crystal clear.

She looked at Damon and it was as though she were seeing him through fresh eyes for the first time. He was absorbed in his work, frowning in concentration as his fingers flew across the keyboard. She loved him more than anything, but she now understood what Bonnie had been trying to tell her. Love wasn't enough.

"This is what it would be like," she said softly. She shook her head in disbelief. Damon glanced at her.

"What?" he asked distractedly.

"This is what it would be like," she repeated, a bit louder this time. "If I moved here, this is would it would be like. You, working. Me, trying to get your attention, even for an hour." Damon looked at her again.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. He went back to typing. Elena drew in a shaky breath.

"I can't do this," she said. "I love you, Damon. But I can't do this." His fingers stopped. A long moment passed. Then he looked at her.

"Does going to get Thai food really mean that much to you?" he asked. He sat his laptop aside. "Fine. We'll go out in the freezing cold, fight a swarm of holiday tourists, and eat crappy Thai food. But if I don't get Harper's contract edits in and the mill workers don't get paid, it's not my fault." Elena shook her head.

"You're not listening," she said sadly. "I can't do this, Damon. I can't do us. Not anymore." She had Damon's full attention now.

"Elena…"

"No," Elena said, her voice firm now. She had made a decision. Her heart was breaking, but in her gut, she knew this was the right choice. "I love you, Damon. But being with you is too hard. You're not willing to move to Mystic Falls and I wouldn't be happy living here. I don't want to live so far away from my family and friends. But even more, I don't want to sit around, waiting for you to get home, only for you to keep working the second you walk through the door. I don't want to have to fight for your attention. I don't want to feel lonely, even when you're in the same room. I love you, but I just can't do this anymore."

Elena stood then, not sure what her next move would be, but positive that she had to leave right then, before she lost her will – before Damon managed to convince her to stay.

"Elena, stop," Damon said. There was a hint of fear in his voice. He stood as well. "I thought we agreed. We don't have to decide anything about who lives where right now."

"It's not about who lives where," Elena told him. Tears had started to push at the back of her eyes as the reality of what she was doing dawned on her. "This is about me. As much as I love you, I'm not happy…"

"Not happy?" Damon broke in. "I've done everything I can think of to make you happy! I cut a long weekend short in Dallas so you could be at home in Mystic Falls with you family for a late Thanksgiving dinner. I've sent you flowers. I've called…" Elena shook her head, realizing for the first time just how much Damon didn't get it.

"The flowers were for a fight similar to this one, remember?" she asked. "So was the reason we ended up back in Mystic Falls. Don't you see, Damon? We keep having this same fight – me, upset because I can't get your undivided attention for more than a few minutes at a time, you, trying to defend yourself. I can't keep doing this. I won't keep doing this."

"What do you want from me?" Damon asked, frustrated. "I'm trying to keep everyone happy – you, my employees, clients, not to mention anyone involved with contract negotiations and endorsement deals. I'm only one person, Elena. I can't please everyone, all the time. I'm one guy. One."

"Exactly," Elena said softly. "You're one person. And you want to please everyone, all the time. But you can't. And when you have to choose, you never choose me."

"I always choose you," Damon scoffed. Elena shook her head.

"You don't," she told him. "It's always golf with head coaches or dinner with general managers or a spreadsheet that positively can't wait thirty more minutes, let alone another day. I can't keep being your last choice. I have to put myself first. I'm sorry Damon, but I have to do what's best for me. No matter how much I love you, I can't keep sacrificing my happiness to wait around for you to have time for me."

Elena turned with the intention of going to the bedroom and gathering her things. She only made it a few steps before Damon grabbed her arm.

"Don't do this," he said. He couldn't quite keep the note of fear out of his voice. "Just… Just give me a few minutes, okay? I'll email the GM and tell him something came up and I'll get him edits first thing tomorrow. I have to do payroll, those people depend on their paychecks, but I can do that pretty quick. Just, let me do those two things and then we'll talk about this." It was Elena's turn to scoff.

"See?" she asked. The heartbreak she had been feeling was quickly replaced by anger. "I tell you I'm leaving, that I can't do this anymore, and you tell me to wait a few minutes so you can finish your work, then we can talk about it. The only thing you've accomplished is proving that I'm making the right decision, no matter how heartbroken I am over it."

"Elena…"

"Just stop!" she burst out. She jerked her arm out of Damon's grasp. "I'm tired of having this same conversation, over and over again. I'm done. We're done." She spun on her heel, once more headed for the bedroom. This time, Damon let her go.

In the bedroom, Elena shut the door behind her and locked it for good measure. She knew, if she let him, that Damon could convince her to stay. And part of her wanted to. But if she did, she was only delaying the alternative.

She made quick work of packing her things, putting all of her energy into the task because if she didn't, she would completely break down. She made sure to leave Damon's t-shirt that she loved to sleep in and after some debate, decided to keep the bracelet he had given her before they attended the gala, tucking it away in a pocket of a pair of haphazardly folded jeans. She unceremoniously dumped her toiletries into her suitcase and remembered her laptop and cell phone were in the living room. She was surprised when Damon didn't at least try to get into the bedroom and stop her. With a deep breath, she opened the bedroom door, her suitcase trailing behind her.

Damon was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, his laptop abandoned. Everything about his posture screamed defeat. Elena felt her heart squeeze in pain, for both him and herself. She loved him and she had never once doubted that he loved her, but she also knew she was making the right decision. Damon had a lot he needed to figure out and she needed to try and pick up the pieces and move forward, somehow.

Quietly, she gathered her laptop and cell phone. The book she had been reading before Damon got home was lying on the coffee table where she'd left it. She briefly debated leaving it there, but the part of her that wanted to be close to Damon, to give him a chance to change her mind, won. She watched as Damon's body tensed as she approached, although his position didn't change. She reached for her book, barely making a sound. She was nearly to the door when Damon finally spoke.

"Please," he said, his voice cracking. "Please, Elena, don't do this." Elena stopped, her back to Damon. She closed her eyes and sent up the briefest of prayers for the strength to walk away. He was behind her now, so close she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck. "Elena, please."

"I have to," she said softly.

"You don't," he tried to argue, but there was no fight in his voice. "Stay here. Stay with me. We'll figure this out. We'll talk about everything. I'll do better. Just, stay. Please." It broke her already broken heart to hear him beg her to stay.

"I can't, Damon," she practically whispered. "I need to go. And you need to let me."

"You don't need to and I won't let you," he said. His hand was feather light as he placed it on top of her hand that gripping her suitcase. He gently removed the handle from her grasp and laced his fingers through hers. "I love you. Please, Elena, stay here. Stay with me and talk about this. We'll go to that Thai place and have dinner and talk. Just please, don't leave."

"Damon, this is how it has to be," Elena said, even as her resolve wavered. "Please, don't make this harder than it already is."

"Just stay tonight," Damon bargained, switching tactics as he grew more desperate. "It's getting late. It's cold out. Just, stay here tonight. If you still want to go in the morning, I'll let you." Elena still hadn't turned to face him, but she knew if she did, she would find nothing but pain written across his face. It was the same pain she felt deep in her heart.

"Damon, please," she said. She tried to tug her hand lose, but he held firm. "Let me go, Damon." Damon turned her to face him then. Tears filled his icy blue eyes, even though he refused to let them fall.

"I love you," he told her with conviction. "Doesn't that matter?" Chin quivering, she shook her head no.

"It's not enough," she told him honestly. "Not this time." She tugged her hand again, and this time, Damon let it go, wounded by the fact that his love for her wasn't enough. His love never seemed to be enough. She took one last look at him. He studied her in return and she could see his mind racing, searching for just the right thing to say. With a deep breath, she reached for her suitcase once more. Summoning all the courage she had, she turned and walked out the door.

Damon didn't follow her.

* * *

><p><strong>How are we doing? Was that as hard for you to read as it was for me to write? <strong>

**Elena took all she could take. She had to stand up for herself, for her own happiness. She loves Damon, but the whole lonely in the same room thing? It's a real thing and it's not fun. She's putting herself first. **

**But poor Damon. Maybe this will open his eyes? **

**Hang in there with me, okay? We're getting to my favorite part of the story!**

**In the meantime, let me know what you think!**


	29. After

**Holy wow! I could hardly believe the reactions to the last chapter. Most of you were "pro Elena" but a number of you were also on Damon's side. I couldn't believe how many of you mentioned that you cried - that was incredible and as an author, what you love to read! And for the reviewer that said she'd love to see this play out as a TV show? Me too! I think that would be the ultimate dream - to have something published and adapted for the screen. :) **

**I was going to break this update into two parts. But then, I decided, based on y'all's last outpouring of support, that y'all deserved a little more than me leaving it with Stefan and Rebekah. So this is basically two updates in one!  
><strong>

**Seriously - thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>The sun rose. It set. It rose again. It set again. Some days were cloudy. On others it rained. Some days, it even snowed. Regardless of the weather, the days melded together, one into the other, the next into the one before it. Damon only knew the date because he had to. He stuck to his schedule, kept himself moving. On the rare occasion he had down time, he went for a run, no matter the weather, nor the time. He slept minimally, taking sleep aids to avoid the train of thoughts that sped through his mind whenever it wasn't kept busy.<p>

There had been hell to pay the day after Elena walked out of his apartment. When the door had closed behind her, he sat down on his couch in a daze, unable to believe she had left. He had just sat there for a long time, trying to shake off what had happened, half believing she would come back, that she would apologize for walking out. Then he would apologize for putting her last, yet again, and promise to do better. He'd mean it this time, live up to his word and put her first.

He had come to his senses around midnight and realized Elena wasn't coming back. Panic set in then and he fumbled around his apartment for his phone. He called her, but she didn't answer. So he called her again. And again. And again. He texted her, sent her a message through Facebook. He stopped begging her to talk to him, to forgive him, and simply asked her to let him know she was safe. New York was a big city. It was late and cold. He allowed himself to picture the worst case scenarios as he watched his phone, anticipating her call. It never rang.

At some point, he fell into a fitful sleep on the couch. His ringing phone woke him up and he lunged for it, sure it was Elena. It wasn't. It was the mill's payroll clerk, mid panic attack because he hadn't approved payroll. He had been in the midst of trying to right his wrong while checking social media and email for any word from Elena, when the Redskins' GM called, asking about contract edits.

It had been next to impossible to concentrate, but somehow, he had pulled off both getting the payroll sorted out and the contract edits submitted, all the while trying to reach Elena. It was nearly lunchtime before his phone chimed with a message from her. It was a text that simply read _I'm fine. _

Those two words had done him in. For the rest of the day, he had holed up in his apartment, eventually opening a bottle of bourbon to drown his sorrows. He had allowed himself one day to wallow in self-pity, one day to feel sorry for himself.

He should have known it would come down to this. The people he loved always left him in the end. His mother had taught him that lesson at just six years old. He had loved her with his whole heart, but that hadn't been enough for her to stay, to fight death and remain in this life, with him. He had loved Katherine, or so he had thought, but she too had left him, his willingness to give her everything she wanted not enough to keep her happy. And with Elena, he simply hadn't been enough for her. He hadn't been able to give her what she needed which had been him. She had needed his affection, his love, his attention. He couldn't give her that and so, she had left.

After a day of drinking too much, mourning the loss of his relationship, and bouncing between self-loathing and anger at Elena, he had crawled out of bed the next morning, taken a shower, put on a suit, and pulled himself together, at least as best he could. Even as he went through the motions of business meetings, conference calls and emails, he continued trying to get in touch with Elena.

He called her, texted her, emailed her. He sent her a Facebook message and, once he had figured out that word had spread, even asked Stefan to have her call him. Stefan had said he would and he had believed his brother, but unsurprisingly, his phone didn't ring. Several times, he had thought about flying to Mystic Falls and begging forgiveness, making some big, grand gesture. But he hadn't been able to summon the courage to face her. As the days passed, he had gained clarity on where he had gone wrong with Elena, where he had let her down. There were times when he was still angry at her for leaving, but he understood. It wasn't that she hadn't loved him. She had loved him more than he had deserved. It was that he had taken her for granted, expected her to keep sitting on the sidelines, waiting for him to have time for her. She had waited until she couldn't wait anymore and ultimately, he couldn't fault her for deciding to leave.

Eventually, he had given up. He had stopped calling, stopped emailing, stopped texting. He had lost her out of his own stupidity and no amount of phone calls or text messages was going change that. There was a hole in his heart the shape of Elena and no matter how far he buried himself in his work or how long he ran or how many sleeping pills he took, he couldn't let her go.

He was a glutton for punishment though. He couldn't bring himself to delete the photos of her on his phone. Some nights, when he missed her the most, he would scroll through them. Sometimes, a new photo of her would pop up in his Facebook feed, usually tagged in a photo posted by Jenna or Rebekah. She looked happy, yet her smile didn't quite meet her eyes, a telltale sign to him that she was putting on an act. He knew how she felt.

He was pretty sure he would never be happy again.

* * *

><p>One foot in front of the other.<p>

That was Elena's motto.

It was how she had made it from Damon's apartment to a nearby hotel the night she left his apartment. It was how she had woken up the next morning and managed to just barely catch the flight back to Charlottesville she had booked at nearly midnight the night before. It was how she went through each day, trying to move forward, trying to let Damon go, no matter how tight his hold on her heart still was. She had her new book to focus on and Caroline had made it her personal mission to keep Elena busy, enlisting her help with town events, decorating her new house, and wedding planning.

The first couple of weeks were the hardest. Damon had called more in the first three days following their breakup than he had over the course of their entire relationship. She had only responded once, letting him know she was safe the day after she had left, caving to his text messages and voicemails full of desperation to at least know she was safe. She owed him that, unable to shake the image of his face falling when she had told him love wasn't enough. She knew those words had cut Damon deep and she regretted them now, but it was too late to take it back.

His calls, texts and emails had trailed off eventually, leaving her to wonder in quiet moments if he had already managed to move on while she herself was still completely hung up on him. Stefan had passed on a message from Damon, asking her to call him, but still, she hadn't. She couldn't. She had to be strong. She couldn't go back to her place on Damon's sidelines. Even though, deep down, she kept wondering if sitting on the sidelines was, ultimately, better than not being with Damon at all.

Christmas had come and gone. She spent the holiday with her family, reveled in watching Ella wake up Christmas morning to see what Santa had brought for her. Ric and Jenna had revealed at Christmas dinner that they were expecting anonther child and celebration had followed. She was genuinely happy for them and couldn't wait for another niece or nephew, but there had been a pang in her chest when she thought about the fact that it would be that much longer until she had a family of her own.

New Year's had brought another round of celebration. Stephen had proposed to Rebekah on New Year's Eve morning. Their group had gotten together that night, just as they had in previous years, to eat too much food, drink too much champagne, and ring in the New Year, all the while celebrating the shiny diamond on Rebekah's left hand. Once more, as happy as Elena was for two of her closest friends, she was reminded of what she had lost.

Damon hadn't shown up in Mystic Falls during the holidays or after. Her friends made it a point not to mention him in front of her, but she knew Stefan missed him, even though he hadn't let on otherwise. Rebekah had let it slip over lunch that Stefan was put out by Damon's lack of acknowledgement of their engagement. Stefan had texted him the news after a number of failed phone calls. Damon had relied with a mere "ok," nothing more, nothing less.

Even though she knew she shouldn't, she felt guilty. Damon was staying away because of her. Breaking up with him was the right decision, but any way she tried to look at it, it wasn't the easy one. While it may have felt like it, she wasn't the only one suffering from his absence.

With a sigh, Elena parked her car in one of the last open spots in the grocery store parking lot. January had started off warmer than average, but the tides had quickly turned. The daytime highs were barely passing the thirty degree mark and a snow storm had wreaked havoc several days earlier, dumping almost a foot of snow on the small town. While the roads had been cleared, snow and ice still clung to the ground and more was forecasted for overnight, this time for a foot and a half or more. If the weatherman proved right, the town would have more snow in two storms than they had in the last three winters put together.

The winter storm warning the National Weather Service had issued earlier in the day had thrown her small lakeside community into chaos. Trucks were out salting the roads ahead of the impending storm. Schools had already announced they would be closed the following day, not that they had been in session much anyway over the last couple of weeks, between the extreme cold and snow. The grocery store was packed, those who lived at the lake and the surrounding area year-round like her stocking up on necessities in order to be snowed in comfortable for days at a time. Judging by the line at the gas pumps of the two gas stations she had passed on her way, she was relieved her brother had thought to fill her gas cans for the generator when he and Bonnie had visited earlier in the week.

Elena stopped just inside the door to take in the scene before her. There weren't any shopping carts left, and only a handful of baskets. Lines were long and patience was thin as people vied for loaves of bread and cartons of eggs. She shook her head slightly, snatched up one of the remaining baskets, and took a deep breath. She braced herself to brave the crowds, pushing down thoughts of what Damon would say about her one horse town, the too small grocery store, and the panic level of the locals over a snow storm.

One foot in front of the other.

* * *

><p>"The person you have dialed is not available to take your call…"<p>

Stefan sighed and tapped the end button. He let his iPhone drop to the kitchen counter and rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tension that had settled there throughout the course of a very long day. Rebekah entered the kitchen quietly, just in time to hear Stefan's sigh. Wordlessly, she went to the refrigerator, located a beer, and used the magnetized bottle opener he kept on the side of the fridge to open it. She placed it in front of Stefan and leaned against counter beside him.

"Damon?" she guessed.

"He didn't answer," Stefan confirmed. "Not that I expected him to."

"I'm sorry," Rebekah apologized. She reached over and rubbed his shoulder affectionately.

"Not your fault," he said. He covered her hand with his and squeezed. "Is it still snowing?"

"Pouring," Rebekah confirmed. "I'm relieved you're not on call, nor at work. I'd be worried sick if you had to go out in this."

"Work enough weekends and holidays and you get to sit out the occasional snow storm," Stephen quipped.

"It'll all be worth it one day," Rebekah soothed, well aware of Stefan's dreams of getting first and emergency medicine fellowship and then an attending physician position at UVA once he completed his residency. She moved so she was standing behind Stefan and began to knead his shoulders. "Did you leave Damon a message?"

"No use. He never calls back."

"Didn't the Redskins lose their last playoff game?" Rebekah asked. "I'm sure he'll have more time now that he doesn't have any clients left in the playoffs. You'll hear from him soon."

"Ever the optimist," Stefan grumbled. "Playoffs or not, Damon won't be calling any time soon."

"I'm sorry," Rebekah said again. She slipped her arms around Stefan and hugged him from behind. "I know you liked having your brother back." Stefan sighed and turned around. He looped his arms around Rebekah and pulled her to him as he leaned against the counter.

"It's more like I liked having a brother, period," Stefan admitted. He idly played with the diamond he'd placed on Rebekah's finger a few weeks ago, feeling a surge of gratitude that she had said yes. "For the first time in 27 years, I actually felt like Damon was my brother, not just someone I shared a house with growing up."

"You two did seem to turn a corner," Rebekah agreed.

"It was Elena," Stefan admitted. "She brought out the best in Damon. I know he didn't take the breakup well. You should have heard him when he called a couple days after Christmas, asking me to get Elena to call him. He was completely devastated. I could hear it in his voice."

"He did it to himself," Rebekah said. There was the slightest bite in her voice and Stefan couldn't fault her. He felt the same way, as they had discussed many times. "He loved her, but he had no idea how to be a boyfriend, how to show Elena that she mattered. She did the right thing, walking away."

"She did," Stefan agreed, somewhat begrudgingly. "I just… I wish things had turned out differently. He deserves to be happy too, you know?"

Rebekah nodded in understanding. She knew Stefan wanted nothing more than to have a family. They had talked about how many kids they would have, what they would name them. But he had also talked about how he had longed for the kind of family life his friends had had growing up, families with holidays and traditions. With the passing of their father, Damon was the last family member he had outside of an aunt and uncle he only heard from a couple times a year and saw at weddings and funerals. He had been so close to having that family connection, only to lose it again. He was hurting and Rebekah hated it.

"He'll have to come to the wedding," Rebekah finally said. "It'll be the event of the year. Don't tell Caroline I said that, of course." Stefan shook his head sadly.

"I wouldn't count on Damon being there," he said. He squeezed Rebekah once before letting her go. "Chocolate ice cream?" he asked, moving towards the refrigerator.

"There's a blizzard outside and you're thinking of an ice cream sundae?" Rebekah asked.

"It'll make me feel better," Stefan said with a fake pout. Rebekah rolled her eyes, but indulged him. She well remembered a story Stefan had told her once about one of the rare moments from his childhood in which he and Damon had spent time together. He had broken his arm in a pee wee football game. That night, when the pain kept Stefan from sleeping, Damon had made them chocolate ice cream sundaes.

It was one of the only childhood memories Stefan had of his brother that didn't revolve slamming doors, sarcastic comments, or sulking silence.

* * *

><p>There were at least a thousand other places Damon would prefer to be and yet, here he was, in Mystic Falls. The trip had been unavoidable, not that he hadn't done his fair share of putting it off. When the Redskins lost in the playoffs though, he simultaneously lost his ready made excuse of being too busy to pay the mill a visit. And so, here he was.<p>

He hadn't told Stefan he was coming, but Pete had ratted him out, letting Stefan know he was looking forward to his older brother's return to Mystic Falls when their paths had crossed at The Grill. Stefan had blown up his phone after that, asking him to grab dinner one night, inviting him to go drinking with himself and a few of his co-workers, offering to bring over pizza and beer and watch ESPN or _Rocky_. Damon had turned down all his offers, but hadn't been surprised to find Stefan camped out at the Boarding House when arrived, complete with a flimsy excuse about making sure the place was ready for Damon's arrival, given that he'd been staying at his apartment because of the bad weather the town had been experiencing lately and no one had been at the house.

Five days was all he had allotted for this trip. Truthfully, he needed longer. After missing payroll approval the night Elena left, he'd had to work a small miracle to ensure paychecks arrived on time. His one mistake had earned him a mark of distrust amongst the mill's upper management, all people who had been with the company for years. He had a lot of smoothing over to do, not to mention employee evaluations he was expected to give and meetings he needed to be on for things like the upcoming year's budget and health insurance changes and retirement plans.

For the first two days, he had managed to hole up at the mill from early in the morning until late evening under the guise of working. He had plenty to do so it was an easy charade to keep up. In truth, he was avoiding even the possibility that he might run into Elena.

He had spent a lot of time rehearsing what he might say if their paths happened to cross while he was in Mystic Falls. Everything from apologies to anger-filled monologues had occurred to him, but nothing sounded quite right. He thought often about seeking her out, showing up at her place unannounced, but before he could talk himself into getting into his car, he would chicken out. He knew if he saw her again, he would be right back to square one, not that he had made all that much progress in moving on from her in the first place.

His plan had been to spend a third day in a row holed up at the mill, avoiding not only Elena, but her friends and his brother as well. Stefan had let him know how he felt about the breakup shortly after Damon had turned up at the Boarding House and while Damon had agreed with most of what Stefan had said, he didn't particularly want to rehash it with anyone else close to Elena. His only solace was that Stefan had revealed that Elena had taken things hard which, in turn, made him feel guilty for being happy she was hurting. His plan to hide away had been altered, however, thanks to the need to visit the Mystic Falls courthouse to sign his name on a few documents that would renew the mill's operating permits for another year.

After writing a big check to go along with his signature, he stepped back into the freezing cold, cursing both Mother Nature for her prolonged foray into subfreezing temperatures and the lack of decent parking in what passed as the downtown of Mystic Falls. He had parked his Camaro several blocks away and now had to walk into the icy wind to return to it. Getting to drive the Camaro again, however, was one of the only bright spots he'd found to the trip. He was walking quickly with his head tucked down against the wind when a clear, familiar voice broke through the freezing air.

"Day-mun!"

He stopped in his tracks, even as his mind told him to keep walking, pretend he hadn't heard. Instead though, a force that wasn't his own was turning him towards the small voice. Despite the circumstances, he smiled as Ella, bundled in so many layers she looked like the kid brother in _A Christmas Story_, ran to him as fast as her heavy coat and boots would let her.

"Hey, Ella," he greeted, stooping down to her level. She collided with him, throwing her little arms around his neck in a fierce hug.

"I not see you in forever!" she exclaimed.

"It's been a while," Damon confirmed with a nod. He felt the hole in his heart tear open a little bit more as he realized for the first time it wasn't just Elena he had lost, but Ella too. The little girl had wormed her way into his heart and he'd had every intention of being her uncle someday before he ruined it all. He glanced past her, hoping to see Ric, afraid of what would happen if Jenna was with her, not that Ric wouldn't hesitate to give him a piece of his mind too.

His heart slammed to a stop.

There, walking cautiously towards him, was Elena. She looked uncertain as she approached, but she was more beautiful than he remembered. It had been seven weeks, five days since she had left, not that he had kept count, but the memories and photos he had of her didn't do her justice. She was so much more beautiful in person. He swallowed hard and focused on Ella, buying himself some time to decide what to do next.

"Was Santa good to you this year?" he asked, landing on something safe.

"Yup!" Ella confirmed. "He brought me a new baby! But I don't get it for a long time. Mommy has to get a big belly first and Daddy said it takes nine whole months which is a long time."

"You're going to be a big sister," Damon said, deciphering what Ella was saying.

"I is!" Ella said excitedly. "I'm gonna name it Billy." Damon chuckled.

"Billy?"

"Billy," Ella confirmed with a nod, not explaining where that name came from. Elena had reached them by now, her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her pea coat as she stopped a few feet away.

"Ella, what have you been told about running off like that?" she asked.

"I saw Day-mun," Ella said with a shrug.

"You know better than to run off," Elena said sternly. "Don't do it again, okay?"

"Okay," Ella said in a singsong voice that promised nothing. Damon stood up, smoothing a nervous hand over his coat.

"Elena," he said with a polite nod. His voice sounded calm although he was anything but.

"Damon," Elena returned in a neutral tone. A few beats of awkward silence passed.

"You ladies enjoying your Wednesday?" he asked. He mentally kicked himself, hating that it was so hard to talk to the very woman who knew everything there was to know about him, even, somehow, the things he had never told him.

"We are," Elena said with a nod.

"Aunt Laney is gonna go away, so we get to have a special day today," Ella supplied, taking Elena's hand. Both Damon and Elena looked at her, each having forgot she was there in the few moments they had spoken to one another.

"Going away?" Damon asked, looking at Elena. Where was she going? She hadn't wanted to move to New York, but she was going somewhere else?

"I leave tomorrow morning on a six week book tour," Elena told him. "They pushed the release date of my book up by a few more weeks."

"Oh," Damon said. "Well, congratulations."

"Thank you," Elena said with a sad smile. Her eyes lingered on his for a moment before she tore them away to look at Ella. "We should get going, Ella. The movie starts in an hour and we still have to drive to Charlottesville."

"Okay!" Ella agreed. "Bye, Day-mun!"

"Bye, munchkin," he said, reaching out and tweaking her nose affectionately. He chuckled when she scrunched up her nose in protest. He then forced himself to look at Elena, the urge to wrap her in his arms and never let her go again sudden and strong. "Bye, Elena," he said instead.

"Bye, Damon," she almost whispered. She started to turn, Ella's hand in hers. "Take care of yourself."

"You too," he said with a nod. He had a million things he wanted to say to her – that he loved her, good luck on her tour, to make sure she remembered an extra phone charger since she was always losing hers, to never go out in a strange city alone after dark. That he was sorry. Instead, he let her walk away once more.

Shaking his head as though clearing away cobwebs, he continued towards his car. He chanced a glance over his shoulder as he walked and caught her as she looked over hers at him. His steps faltered. So did his heart. He had given it to her and whether she wanted it or not, it was still hers to hold on to.

* * *

><p>Damon sat at the kitchen island, slowly sipping from a tumbler of bourbon, lost in thought and yet somehow not thinking at all. There were too many things running through his head to focus on just one – decisions that needed to be made, people he needed to call, emails he needed respond to. Elena. It was too much to process after the day he had, and so he just sat at the counter, leisurely working his way through a bottle of bourbon.<p>

The rumbling of the garage door opening shook the silence. A couple minutes later, Stefan appeared in the kitchen. He looked as worn down as Damon felt with heavy dark circles under his eye and a stain that looked suspiciously like blood on the sleeve of his scrub top. His overall demeanor gave off a sense of defeat.

"Long day?" Damon asked. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he wasn't in the mood to rib his brother the way he normally would have, whether Stefan had arrived home bright-eyed and bushy-tailed or looking like someone had kicked his puppy like he currently did.

"Awful day," Stefan confirmed. Damon slid him the bottle of bourbon.

"Bet mine was worse."

"Guarantee you it wasn't." Stefan took the bottle of bourbon with him to retrieve a tumbler from a nearby cabin. He poured himself several fingers worth of the amber liquid and sat down across from Damon, placing the bottle between them.

"We'll have a competition," Damon said. "You go first." Stefan sighed and took a swig from his glass.

"A family of five came into the ER overnight. Mom, dad, three kids. They were on the way home from celebrating a belated Christmas with family in South Carolina and the dad fell asleep at the wheel. The mom and the oldest daughter were dead on arrival. We lost the dad around lunchtime, younger daughter passed away at 15:13 – I called it. Their son is only two and if he makes it, he's going to wake up an orphan."

"You win," Damon conceded. He reached for the bourbon and topped off Stefan's glass, even though he had only taken a couple of sips.

"What sucked about your day?" Stefan asked. He took a long drink from his glass this time, letting the liquid burn its way down.

"I ran into Elena this afternoon." Stefan looked at him.

"How was that?"

"Awful." Stefan frowned.

"Awful?" he asked. He knew Elena was hurting, just as much, if not more, than Damon. But he couldn't see her being anything less than cordial.

"It's generally not pleasant when you run into the woman who broke up with you, the same woman you also happen to still be madly in love with," Damon told Stefan. "It was an excellent reminder of what I lost, not that I needed reminding."

"She's hurting too, you know," Stefan told him. "Maybe if you went up to the lake, talked to her…" Damon was already shaking his head.

"She broke up with me for a reason," he said. "I let work cost me the love of my life. I did it to myself. The least I can do is let her move on."

Silence fell between the brothers for a few minutes. They sipped bourbon, Stefan pondering what would happen to his two year old patient if he made it through the night, Damon trying and failing to not think about Elena. The ache he felt for her was raw, especially now that he had seen her after weeks of nothing. It was Stefan that broke the silence.

"Damon, are you happy?" Damon looked at Stefan, surprised by his question.

"Am I happy?" he repeated. Stefan nodded.

"Truth time. Are you happy with the way your life is going?" Blaming the bourbon again, Damon considered Stefan's question instead of dismissing it.

If he were being honest with himself, he had been struggling for a while, even before Elena left. He was constantly being pulled in a dozen different directions at any given time, trying to make any number of people happy, meet deadlines and deliver on demands. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in months, couldn't remember the last time he had done something for himself. He used to love to go to the movies by himself, zone out and watch something full of action with no real storyline to escape his daily routine for a couple of hours. He couldn't remember the last time he had been in a theater. He loved to read, but couldn't recall the last time he had read something besides a contract. He hadn't played golf for the sheer joy of swinging the golf club in at least a year, even though he loved the game. The list went on.

And he had lost Elena. That was the nail in his coffin. In quiet moments before everything had crashed down around him, usually between conference calls or while he waited for whatever business contact he was meeting to join him for lunch, he would think about their future which he once thought was a sure thing. He had intended to marry Elena. For the first time, he had wanted a family. He didn't quite know where to go now that his once guaranteed future had been snatched away. He realized for the first time that he needed to talk to someone about what he had been going through. If that someone couldn't be Elena, there was no better option than his brother.

"No," he admitted with a shake of his head. "I'm miserable. Completely and totally miserable. And exhausted. God, I'm exhausted. I'd give anything to sleep for eight hours. Hell, I'd be happy with six. Sometimes, it's all I can do not to take my trust fund and buy an island in the middle of the damn ocean where no one can reach me. Just say screw it all and run away, leave all this behind and start over, be someone besides Damon Salvatore. So no, I'm not happy."

"You've been going full steam ahead for a long time," Stefan said, choosing his words carefully. "Even before Dad passed away, you were going all out. You can't keep going like you are right now, juggling the mill and your clients and who knows what else. It already cost you Elena. It's going to cost you a whole lot more if you don't slow down."

"I don't know what else to do," Damon confessed. "I've tried to find an alternative. I haven't come up with one. This life, the pace I'm keeping, that's all I know."

There were so many things Stefan wanted to say. He wanted to tell Damon to quit being a sports agent and move back to Mystic Falls. He wanted to tell him to sign the mill over to him once his mandated six months of ownership were up so he could stay in New York and be a sports agent. He wanted to tell him to give it all up and live off his trust fund. He wanted to tell him to get his ass in his Camaro and go fight for Elena. Instead, he planted a seed that he hoped would lead Damon to the answers he needed to find on his own.

"You ever get around to reading that letter Dad left you?" Damon shook his head.

"Kind of forgot about it," he admitted. He'd taken it out of the nightstand drawer the morning after he and Stefan had talked in the living room during Thanksgiving, but Ella had started to wake and he had hurriedly shoved it back in the drawer before Elena woke too and asked him about it. He had told her nearly everything about himself, the good and the bad, and had shared all the details of his father's will with her, but he had never mentioned the letter although now, he couldn't quite say why.

"Read it," Stefan advised. "I know I keep telling you that, but I think you might find a few answers you've been looking for."

"Let me guess, Daddy Dearest let you read his letter to me before he sealed it?" Damon drawled. Stefan shook his head.

"I have no idea what it says," he answered truthfully. "But I know what Dad and I talked about in his final weeks. He had a lot he wanted to say to you, a lot to explain. I'm sure he put it all in your letter." His phone rang then. He picked it up and read the screen. "It's the hospital," he said. "I should take this."

Damon watched him leave before turning his attention back to his bourbon although the desire to drink it was gone. A weight had been lifted off his shoulders by confiding in Stefan, but another one had settled in its place, brought on by the realization that he really did need to start making some changes. Otherwise, he would meet an early grave.

Hours later, Damon dragged himself up the stairs, leaving Stefan parked in front of the eleven o'clock news and in charge of disposing of the empty pizza box and paper plates that had held their dinner. They hadn't talked much after their exchange in the kitchen. Stefan had received word from the hospital that the two year old had woken up and while he had some broken bones and internal injuries that would take time to heal, he would make a full recovery and would be going to live with his grandparents when he was released from the hospital. It had been the slightest of bright spots in an overall bad day.

In his room, Damon went through the motions of getting ready for bed. He had no expectation of sleep however, between his run in with Elena and his lack of sleeping pills on hand. His mind had been whirring all night, even as he managed to distract himself with pizza and bad sci-fi movies, but without a distraction, he knew he wouldn't close his eye tonight. He sat down on the edge of his bed and was about to reach out to turn the lamp off when a thought occurred to him.

Hesitantly, he opened the nightstand drawer. The letter from his father was right on top, exactly where he'd left it almost three months ago. How had it been three months since he'd woken up to Elena and Ella sleeping soundly next to him? With a slight tremble, he reached for the heavy envelope.

For several minutes, he just held it, studying it.

Only his name was scrawled across it in his father's heavy script. He realized he wrote his lowercase "a" in the same manner as his father, the loop tight, the tail a tad longer than it needed to be. Like his father, he also put a little hook on the end of his "n" and used more weight than was needed to maneuver his pen, resulting in a thick line.

Heart pounding, Damon carefully unsealed the envelope and removed a thick sheaf of papers. He sat the envelope aside and unfolded the papers he had removed. Line after line, page after page, his father's words stared up at him. With a deep breath, he began to read.

* * *

><p><strong>And there you have it. <strong>

**We had a little time jump there, spanning almost two months. Both Damon and Elena are functioning, but they're still hurting. Stefan's hurting too - he misses his brother. **

**I based the winter Mystic Falls is seeing on the winter we had last year - colder than it's ever been and SO MUCH SNOW. You'll probably remember me saying in earlier chapters that according to the map shown on the TV show, Mystic Falls is exactly in my hometown. So if I had to deal with that bitter cold and feet of snow at a time, Elena does too. :) Southerners weren't made for snow - hence the grocery store scene! **

**And now... Giuseppe's letter.**


	30. Letter

**Finally - the letter. **

**Giuseppe wasn't a bad guy, at least not in my story. He was a man with a broken heart that cost him everything where one of his sons was concerned. **

**I'm really eager to read your reactions to this chapter. I know they will be mixed and varied and some of you will love this letter and some of you may hate it. I can't wait. **

**Thank you a million times over, too, for all the reviews last chapter! Nearly 40! I can hardly believe it. THANK YOU!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p><em>Damon, <em>

_My oldest son. _

_My first son. _

_My challenging, intelligent, droll son. _

_There are so many things to say and yet, my time to say them is rapidly coming to a close. That's the thing I've learned about time. We, as humans, think we have all the time in the world – until we don't. Our time on this earth with those we love is short, at best, and often jerked away from us long before we're ready. _

_My wish is for us to have this conversation man-to-man. I have a lot of free time on my hands these days, waiting around for bags of poison to drip into my veins or else for a doctor to give me more grim news, and so I have imagined it often. We would sit in the library as I know it has always been your favorite place in this house, and talk like men. I would say the things I intend to write, you would listen, we would, to summarize, hug and make up. _

_Of course, it isn't going to work like that. You and I – that isn't our style. _

_Your brother, ever the optimist, has made it his personal mission to get you to Mystic Falls before I die so we can have our man-to-man. For all his efforts, I know better. I won't see you again. In turn, you will have to forgive me as this letter will get lengthy. I have quite a lot to say, so I suppose it's a good thing you have always loved to read. _

_Where to begin? _

_With so much to cover, I suppose the beginning may be our best bet. _

_Damon, I did you a great injustice as a child. _

_As they say, hindsight is 20/20. I see it so clearly now, where I started my downhill journey as your father. _

_When your mother died, you were only six years old. You woke up one morning with a mother and went to bed that same evening without one. It was far too much for you to understand at such a young age. I will die regretting not being the one who told you she passed. I will die regretting that you were left to figure out life and death all on your own. Frankly, I will die regretting that it was your mother who passed and not myself. She would have been a far better parent to both you and Stefan than I ever could have been. _

_I know you lost your mother. But I lost my wife, the love of my life, that day. I loved your mother more than my own life, Damon, and would have gladly traded places with her if the universe worked that way. She was everything good and right about my life. She saved me. When she died, she took my heart with her. I was grieving. I could barely put one foot in front of the other. I couldn't be alone in my grief, however. I had lost my wife and gained a helpless infant son in an instant. I was blind to all that wasn't exactly in front of me. It may sound like a flimsy excuse, I realize, but I ask for your understanding of the fact that I lost the person I loved more than anything, that I was grieving too. _

_I had no idea what I was doing with Stefan in those early days. It was your mother who instinctively knew what each of your cries meant, when you were hungry, when you needed a diaper change or just wanted to be held. I merely did what your mother told me and tried to bond with you in my own way. I think I was successful, at least while it was just the three of us – you, your mother and I. I remember you being my shadow, following me around the house and asking me to take you to the mill so you could see the trucks. With Stefan, I had to figure it all out entirely on my own. It was overwhelming, trying to keep an infant alive while planning a funeral, and I ashamedly admit, it caused me to push you aside without realizing I was doing it. _

_I cannot begin to find words to apologize. I think often of how afraid and confused you must have been. I am ashamed to admit that I cannot recall a single memory of you from that time period. I don't recall you meeting Stefan for the first time, couldn't tell you if you walked into my study the way you used to, usually with a book or a toy truck in tow. What kind of father doesn't remember parts of their son's childhood? I'm sorry, Damon. That is all I can say, and it will never be enough. I'm sorry for that as well. I can assure you that I loved you, no matter how I may have behaved. You were and are my son. The anger that I have with myself for allowing you to go without my love and attention for even a moment runs deep. I will carry that anger to my grave. _

_By the time I realized I had been neglecting you, you had already managed to construct an impressive wall. It was the day of your seventh birthday party that I realized how far away you had pushed me. We had a small party, just a few family members and close friends. The nanny I hired to look after the two of you put it together because, since I'm confessing my parenting failures, I had forgotten all about planning a celebration. Again, that was something your mother would have taken full charge on. She did love to throw a party. I wonder if you remember the last one she threw you? It was construction-themed, with dump trucks and tractors and safety hats as party favors. _

_I tried to sit with you when you were opening your presents, but you moved to the floor. I dismissed that as typical childlike behavior – you didn't want your old man crowding you. That night, however, I came to your room to tell you goodnight. I hadn't done that since your mother died. I sat down on the edge of your bed, asked you a few questions about your day. You had one word answers, grew more and more frustrated with my presence. I reached to pull the covers around you to tuck you in. You told me to get out and grew angrier and angrier when I didn't. It had been seven months since your mother's passing and in those seven months, I had lost you. _

_From then on, I couldn't reach you. As you grew older, you grew angrier, pulled further and further away. It hurt me to see the lack of relationship between you and your brother, almost as much as it hurt me to not have a relationship with you. My brother has been my best friend my entire life, and I wanted that so much for you and Stefan. You had already lost a mother. I wanted you to have each other. _

_You damn near put me in an early grave during your teenage years. The school called every other day. You weren't doing your homework. You were skipping classes. You were caught smoking out by the dumpsters. Marijuana was found in your history book. The list goes on. You would disappear for a day or two at a time, usually after we fought over whatever you had said or done most recently. At first, I would report you missing. Poor Liz Forbes – you broke her in as a rookie cop, needless to say. After a while, we realized you would show back up when you were ready. _

_I pushed you. I know that. I had tried everything – lavish gifts, taking you to amusement parks, doing whatever I could think of to show you that you were special, that I loved you – that I was sorry. I couldn't reach you. I was trying to buy your love in those early days, but it didn't work. You were too smart for that. I'm grateful for that now. I'm grateful that you were smart enough to now allow me to persuade you with gifts and day trips. You deserved more that material affections. _

_At some point, I decided to try tough love. You were so damn stubborn, a trait I'm positive you got from me, not that your mother lacked the ability to hold her ground on things she believed in. I thought if I was hard enough on you, if I pushed you hard enough and long enough, I would eventually break through the fortress you had constructed and get my son back. Clearly, I never did. Throughout your teenage years, the guidance counselor recommended therapy. I told her she was full of it – I didn't believe in that hooey – but if I had, if I had taken our family to counseling, maybe things would have turned out different. Another regret, I suppose. _

_I saw so much potential in you. You were, and always have been, exceptionally intelligent. Even as you smoked your way through a bag of weed, you would have a book in your hand. Not just any book, either. It was always a classic, something by one of the great authors of decades gone. You got your love of literature from your mother. She too always had a book nearby. _

_Your teachers' feedback was always the same – you had so much promise, if you would only focus on your schoolwork and show up for class a time or two. You had such confidence in yourself and were full of charisma, wit. I knew you could be great, if you would only try, apply yourself. And so, I pushed you. _

_You pushed back, of course. The harder I pushed, the harder you pushed right back. I should have expected nothing less. You have a fighter's heart, always have. Even as a toddler, you weren't one to back down. I have never seen a more defiant child than you. I would tell you to stop skipping class, so you would skip three days' worth. I would ground you for skipping class, you would walk right out the front door and not come back for two days. _

_I pushed you because I wanted you to be great. I wanted you to go to college, get an education, live up to your potential. One of my greatest fears was that you would let your life go to waste, that you would spend your years living like life was one big spring break. I only wanted what was best for you. I did a poor job of showing that, however. Again, hindsight shows me that I went about it all wrong. _

_I remember being awed when the school told me you were going to graduate. I still don't know how you pulled that one off, based on some of the grades that I saw, but I have a feeling it was because you knew your mother would have expected nothing less. It hasn't gone unnoticed that even now, more than twenty-five years since her death, she still influences you. I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful that she was such a good mother, such a good person, that she managed to have such a profound impact on you. _

_At first, I thought I was going to be right about your prospects as an adult. You took off the same day you graduated high school and from what I could tell based on your credit card statements, were having the time of your life in South Beach. You were 18 and no longer in high school. I could tell you how I felt about your behavior, but what good would it do? You were going to do whatever you wanted anyway. To this day, I wonder if I should have cut you off back then. But I couldn't today no more than I could have back then – the least I could do was make sure you had money for food and to ensure a roof over your head. _

_But then, somehow, you found your way. I once overheard you say you fell into a position as a sports agent. I'm sure there is a sordid story there that I would rather not know. Regardless, you found your calling. You found something that set your soul on fire. I watched from afar as you made a name for yourself, made a small fortune, all on your own. I'm ashamed that I never told you how proud I am of you. I keep saying that, don't I? That I'm ashamed. You accomplished everything on your own, partly because you're stubborn, partly because I ruined any chance of a relationship with you. My shame is a recurring theme throughout this letter because of that very reason – my actions made it so I didn't get to be a part of your success. I didn't get to celebrate your first contract the way I celebrated Stefan's acceptance into medical school. I bought Stefan a bottle of 50 year old whiskey when he matched with a residency at UVA. You should know, I bought you a bottle as well. It's in the safe in my office at the mill. I know you know the code – somehow – to the safe in my study and so I put it somewhere you wouldn't happen across it and think it was just another bottle of liquor. I hope you'll save it for a special occasion, but if you feel the need to drink it – or use it as lighter fluid – after you've read this letter by all means. I won't stop you. _

_Damon, I'm proud of you. You have become a man. A good, strong, responsible man. You are damn good at what you do. I'm sorry it has taken me this long to tell you how proud of you I am. I'm especially sorry that I have to say it this way, in a letter. I should have told you often, throughout the course of your childhood and teen years. I should have told you last week, when one of your clients made Sports Center for signing a lucrative deal with Nike. And so, I'll say it once more now. I'm proud of you. _

_As proud of you as I am, I'm also your father. I worry about you. I'm sure you're rolling your eyes, given how I've failed spectacularly the role of parent, but I do. I see you living this fast paced life, flying here, attending black tie affairs there. I've deduced that you're living quite large in the city. A Manhattan high rise, designer suits, an affinity for the finer things in life. And if I know you at all, a very expensive car and women throwing themselves at your feet. You always were a charmer with a love of horsepower. I'm sure you're having the time of your life, but I can't help but wonder if it's a good life, a happy life. _

_There's a difference, you see, between living life, and living a good life. You can surround yourself with things, travel far and wide, rub elbows with the elite. But in quiet moments, when the parties are over and everyone has gone home, what do you think about? Do you feel fulfilled? Or do you find yourself longing for something, regardless of whether you know what that something is? Life is meaningless without happiness. I want you to live a full, happy life, Damon. If the life of luxury you lead now makes you happy and lives you fulfilled at the end of the day, live it to the best of your ability. But if it doesn't, figure out why and then do whatever it takes to make the why a reality. _

_I tell you this because as I face down my final hours, I didn't live a fulfilled life. There was a time when it was so full I could barely contain the happiness in my heart. I had your mother and a beautiful young son, another on the way. But then, your mother died and as I've already talked about in detail, I ruined any chance I had at a relationship with my oldest son. I don't want that for you. I don't want you to have regrets, to spend hours of your days wishing you had done things differently. My greatest wish – for both of my sons – is happiness. _

_It was a rip roaring fight, but your happiness is why I had to tell you that marrying Katherine would be a mistake. I didn't like her from the moment she walked through my door. I knew she wouldn't make you happy. I knew she wasn't with you for the right reasons. I didn't want you to live a life with a woman undeserving of you. Even though it sent you out my door, Katherine in tow, I had to say my peace. I think you knew she wasn't the right one, though. I noticed you didn't give her your mother's ring. I know you have it, by the way. I'm not entirely sure when you slipped it out of my safe – and again, how you got into the safe to begin with – but you've always been very good at finding a way to get what you want. I suspect that's why you're such a great agent. _

_Find a woman who makes you happy, Damon. Find a woman who accepts you for who you are, faults and all. Find a woman who will fight with you. You need that, Damon, someone who stands up to you, challenges you, pushes you out of your comfort zone. It won't be easy to find a woman who can put with you – you are a Salvatore – but I know she's out there. Don't settle for anything less than the woman of your dreams. Your mother was the woman of my dreams. Like you, I was a handful. But she could handle me at my worst, which made me love her even more. _

_There are a few things I wanted to accomplish with this letter. First and most importantly, I wanted to make an attempt at apologizing for being a terrible father and letting you know how very proud of you I am. I also wanted to offer you advice, advice I should have taken the time to give you long ago, instead of fighting with you. But I also want to explain a few things you are likely questioning right now. _

_If you're reading this letter, two things have happened. I've passed away and my will has been read. My death is the easier to explain as it's a fact of life – each of us dies at some point, some before our time, some instantly, others slowly. I had cancer. And then I went into remission. And then it came back with a vengeance. It won in the end, but please know I went out swinging. I wanted to live longer, have a chance to right the many wrongs I've made in my life and replace the bad memories with good ones. That wasn't my set of cards, however. _

_As for my will, well, that will require a bit more explanation. _

_I wanted to place a bet with Chester on what you reaction to the reading would be. He seemed to be under the impression that you would take its contents relatively well, all things considered. I know better. I'm no fortune teller, but I'm sure you flew into a fit of rage and likely made some very dumb decisions afterward. You do have a temper, happen to share my penchant for fine liquor, and have a bit of a history of acting first and thinking later. I didn't think it was right to bet, however. One, I've been trying to make good with the man upstairs so I don't spend eternity in Hell. But also, what good would it be to win a bet I can't collect on? _

_My decision to make you the executor of my estate was, admittedly, underhanded. I needed to ensure you would stay in Mystic Falls for the time between my funeral and when the will would be read. I apologize for my deviousness, but I do hope you found something to entertain yourself while you waited for Chester to share my final wishes. _

_I'm sure you expected Stefan to get everything. If I were in your shoes, I would expect the same, I suppose. Your brother is smart. Both of you were blessed with brains (and good looks, if I do say so myself). But he is a different kind of smart. He understands science and math and philosophy. He is intelligent in the classic sense. You, however, have a mind that works outside of text books and manuals. You have instincts. You can size up a situation quickly and make decisions on the fly. You can negotiate and understand how businesses work, from the custodial staff to the legal ramifications. It comes as natural to you as breathing. _

_Salvatore Timber has been placed in your care because of this. I believe you can run this company. I believe you can continue to grow the family business, reinvent it as the need arises. I believe you can handle both the day to day along with the changes to regulations and the occasional protests by environmental groups. I believe in you, Damon, and I know of no other way than to put my company, the company that has been passed down through now four generations, in your hands. Not only do I believe in you, I trust you._

_I understand that taking on the mill adds to your workload. That wasn't my intention, but it is a side effect. You can handle it though. Put yourself first – your well-being, your happiness. Don't let work consume you, either from the mill or your agency. The people at the mill are good people. They are honest and work hard. They will do whatever they can to help you. Just ask. Because Damon, there is no weakness in asking for help. Remember that, okay? Remember you don't have to go at it alone. _

_As for the Boarding House… That's a bit of a different story. _

_Earlier in this letter, I eluded to your happiness. As flashy as your life is, I don't believe you are happy. I can't put a finger on it. I can't say it's this or that. It's an instinct I have, a feeling. You'll understand that gut feeling when you have kids of your own. Because of this gut feeling, I wanted to ensure you had the option to come home. _

_Mystic Falls is your home, Damon. It's the place you were born. It's where you were raised. It's where your parents, grandparents and great-grandparents are buried. We're a founding family. This is where our roots are. They run deep into the very soil of the town. No matter where you go, this is your home. _

_I don't know that I ever told you, but I too left Mystic Falls the first chance I got. Fresh out of high school, I hightailed it to the west coast. I was a lot like you back then. A dreamer, eager to get out of my small town and see the world. I didn't have a plan, I just knew that I wanted to see what the world had to offer. It was supposed to be for the summer. I was due back to attend UVA in the fall. But I landed a job at a vineyard in Napa and decided to stick around. That was quite the round with your grandfather. I fought with him a lot like you fought with me. _

_A few years passed. I was enjoying wine country, bouncing from vineyard to vineyard, learning to make wine at some, running tasting rooms at others. But after a while, I started to feel unsettled. I couldn't place it, but something felt off, like the stars had slipped out of alignment. I went through my days the same as always, but in those quiet moments I mentioned above, my mind would wander to a place I couldn't define, searching for something I couldn't find. _

_I paid a visit to Mystic Falls at Thanksgiving and the unsettled feeling went away for a time. I met the Paxton family while I was home. My mother had invited them to Thanksgiving dinner. They were new in town and she wanted them to feel welcomed. Their sons were boisterous and fun and fit right in with your uncle and me. But their daughter… She was a few years younger than myself, a recent UVA grad and a newly minted teacher at the elementary school. She was smart and beautiful, witty and kind. I was immediately smitten. _

_I hadn't intended to come home for Christmas. Plane tickets weren't cheap and your grandfather hadn't taken my skipping out on college well and so, he had cut me off. But I scraped together a few dollars and dropped hints to your grandmother that I wanted to spend the holidays at home. That was all it took for her to ensure I had the means to travel back to Mystic Falls. I bought a round trip ticket with plans to fly back just after the New Year. You will find my unused ticket amongst my things as you begin to clean out my stuff. You see, the first thing I did after arriving home was kiss my mother. The second thing I did was seek out the Paxton's daughter – your mother. I had to leave my home to realize it was, in fact, my home. _

_It's my hope that you will remember Mystic Falls is your home. It may not be the place you put down roots. I selfishly hope it is. I would love nothing more than for the family home to be full of your children, having sleepovers with their cousins and stampeding down the stairs on Christmas morning. Where you settle will ultimately be your decision. But the option is there. _

_As for the six month stipulation, I may as well explain that as well. I needed a way to give you time to accept that I left you the mill and our home. I knew your first instinct would be to sign it over to Stefan. Your second would be to sell. And so, I came up with the six month clause that would ensure you maintained ownership for a time. I can only hope it is enough time for you to sort out all your questions, make all of your decisions. _

_Stefan is aware of my wishes. He and I spoke at length about my intentions. I didn't want him to feel slighted, although can one feel slighted when they are left a beach house? He was gracious and supportive and, I think, hopes you end up staying as well. _

_That's another thing – go easy on your brother. He looks up to you. He always has. I used to catch him playing quietly outside of your bedroom door, hoping you would come out and that it would be the day when you would actually give him a few minutes of your time. He's not as strong as you are. He's not weak, by any means, but he is an idealist and doesn't always see the world as it is. Be his brother. Push him around when he uses poor judgment, support him when he needs someone to be there, celebrate with him when something good happens. Just – be his brother. He's not to blame for your mother's passing. Remember, he lost her too. _

_I've rambled on for quite a while. My hand is cramping from writing so much. I'm sure I've forgotten something. I'm sure I didn't do my apologies or explanations justice. But I tried, and I hope that counts for something. _

_I love you, Damon. I'm so very proud of you and the man you've become. You will do great things with your life. You're destined to. You are a good man and I can give you no higher praise than that. I'm sorry it took me so long to apologize. I've wanted to for so long, but I thought I had more time. There always seemed to be another pressing issue to address when you made your rare appearance in Mystic Falls – insufferable fiancées, opinions on the way you were spending your money, the way you were living your life. _

_Incidentally, don't think I didn't notice those appearances were always around special dates where your mother was concerned, birthdays, holidays. I also noticed the flowers that would appear on her grave overnight. She loved you so much, Damon. She too would be unabashedly proud of you. Although, I do think she would have had a thing or two to say to you about some of your more brazen behavior. She wasn't one to mess with, your mother. _

_And now, I shall wrap this up. Again, because I suddenly can't say it enough, I love you. I'm proud of you. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry it took so long. And especially, I'm sorry that I've left you. It wasn't by choice, but it was by design. _

_Be happy, Damon. Settle for nothing less. I love you. _

_Love, _

_Dad_

* * *

><p><strong>And there we have it.<br>**

**Giuseppe died with a lot of regrets. He died knowing he failed Damon and that it was - and long had been - too late for redemption. Facing death makes a person reflect on their lives which is what Giuseppe did. It may have been too little, too late, but it may have also been exactly what Damon needed.  
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**Despite his flaws, Giuseppe knew Damon well. It has been alluded to throughout this story that Damon is like his father. He's learning now that he is more like his father than he knew.  
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**There's a lot to process with this one, a lot of dynamics at work. Trust me - Damon has read the letter quite a few times. ;) **

**Please let me know what you think!**


	31. Decisions

**Y'all absolutely blew my mind with your responses to Giuseppe's letter. I sound like a broken record, but I never expect your responses to be so heartfelt. Thank you all so much! **

**The first couple of sentences of the update below are slightly borrowed. They were inspired by one of my favorite songs, "Hurt Somebody," which was originally recorded by the Dirt Drifters and then again recently by Dierks Bentley. The line goes _There's a simple truth to the morning sun/things don't change/they just light up. _I've always loved that line. So pretty.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

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><p>Damon had long ago learned a simple truth about mornings. Things didn't change with the rising sun. They just lit up.<p>

As a child, he woke up each morning, expecting to find his mother in the kitchen, making breakfast. But just like every morning before it, he would enter the kitchen to find it empty, a permanent reminder that his mother was gone. That truth didn't change, no matter how many years went by.

For the last couple of months, he had woken to an empty bed. Some days, it took longer than others to remember that Elena was gone. He would get out of bed and start his day, only to reach for a bottle of shampoo or open his closet and be painfully reminded that she had walked out of his apartment. Other days, he woke up and reached out for her, his arms falling on cold, wrinkled sheets. Those were the worst days. Regardless of how he woke, the fact never changed that he had lost Elena.

This morning, he was facing another truth. His life was in shambles, just as it had been when he finally fell into a fitful sleep the night before after reading and re-reading his father's letter.

He had sat on the edge of his bed for a long time, staring at the papers in his hands, trying to understand what he had read. It took some time for him to pull himself together, to reign in his racing thoughts and read the letter through again, and then a third time. By the time he reached the end a fourth time, he was in tears, the weight of his father's words sinking in. Giuseppe had been proud of him. Trusted him. Loved him. He hadn't known about his father's time in Napa, nor that he returned to Mystic Falls because he fell in love, but those facts hit close to home.

Giving up on sleep, Damon had driven to the McIntire Greenway before sunrise. The Boarding House felt suffocating and he hadn't wanted to cross paths with Stefan with his mind so full. The greenway had somehow become the place he went when he needed to think, somewhere where he could be alone without the risk of interruptions. A part of him had hoped Elena would show up to go for a run before she left on her book tour as he had pulled into the empty parking lot. He was relieved when she hadn't, however. He needed to figure out his next steps before he faced her again.

He wasn't happy. He had known that for a while, but he hadn't admitted it to himself, preferring to tuck away the truth in the recesses of his mind with the promise to come back to it some other time, only to continue ignoring it. But now, sitting on the same picnic table he had chosen when he came to the greenway after his drunken display following the reading of his father's will, he was able to come to terms with the fact that he hadn't been truly happy in a long time – since well before his father had passed, before Elena entered his life.

He could pinpoint when he started to feel unsettled. It was in the weeks after he caught Katherine in bed with another man and ended their relationship. After the initial shock and anger wore off and he pulled himself together enough to face the public, he had felt a disconnect. Something had been off. Back then, he had thought it was the awkwardness of the situation with Katherine hanging over his head and causing looks of pity from his colleagues. Now, he knew that unsettled feeling was the first clue that he wasn't living a life that made him happy.

Six months ago, he would have denied it. He would have told anyone who asked that he was going to stay in New York City and keep living his life just the way it was. Now, he wanted the life his father had eluded to. He wanted a wife, kids, a family. He wanted that life with Elena and he wanted it in Mystic Falls. There was no point in denying it now, especially when it seemed further away than ever.

He had gotten a taste of what it could be like. He kept thinking back to Thanksgiving. While the holiday had started off a disaster, things had turned around completely when he and Elena landed in Mystic Falls. He knew every day wouldn't be that perfect. There wouldn't always be laughter and tables overflowing with homemade meals. But those few days, spending time with Elena, his brother and their makeshift family of friends, those were the last days he had felt at peace. He wanted that again. He wanted days where he could sleep in, ignore emails without consequences, and wrap his arms around Elena just because she was there. He wanted that peaceful feeling he had felt in his very core for those few days.

He didn't want to completely give up being a sports agent, however. He still loved his job. He still loved negotiating deals and handling the occasional crisis. He couldn't walk away from it, not after he had dedicated so much time and had so much success to show for it. It was a part of him he wasn't willing to let go of. Deep down, he knew no one expected him to. Elena, Stefan – they knew how much his job meant to him and neither of them had ever told him outright to give it up. They had only told him, in so many words, to take stock of his priorities.

For the first time, he realized he had options. He didn't have to keep trying to do everything alone. There was no reason for him to continue to be hands on with every single client that signed with his agency. He had employees – good employees. He only hired the best. He could delegate. He could ask for help, as his father had put it. He could treat his agency as an actual agency and let the people he was already paying do their jobs.

He would continue working with some of his bigger clients, like Harper and Enzo, but he could transition management of other clients to his employees. There were a couple of people that, now that he was taking the time to think about it, deserved promotions. They could take over the day-to-day for a number of clients, freeing him up to focus on select clients and weigh in on others only when he was needed. Re-aligning his agency would also free up his schedule, not to mention his inbox. And, he realized, his stepping back would also aid in the growth of the company as a whole. He had turned down athletes who wanted to work with him because he, personally, hadn't had the time. With a team of agents working for him, he could take on more talent.

It would take some work and it wouldn't happen overnight, but he could work remotely. He would still have to make the occasional trip to New York and travel for business from time to time, but he could be an agent from Mystic Falls, just as well as he could from New York. Very few of his clients were based out of New York as it was. If he could run his clients' careers from New York while they were centered in Washington, Seattle, Dallas and Philadelphia, he could surely run them from Mystic Falls.

As for the mill, he was going to throw himself into it. It was his legacy. His father hadn't passed it down to him to teach him a lesson or somehow punish him as he had originally thought. Giuseppe had passed it down to him because he believed he could run it and run it well. He was going to have to delegate there as well, give tasks to others, perhaps Pete who, he thought, was also deserving of a promotion of some sort. But he could do it. He could slow down and actually live his life instead of plowing through it one email and business tip at a time like he had been doing for far too long.

For all the major changes he was planning, his biggest fear was Elena. It had been almost two months exactly since she walked away. He couldn't blame her for leaving. He had been a poor excuse for a boyfriend, promising her the moon and never following through. She had only wanted his time. Unlike Katherine, she hadn't wanted his luxurious lifestyle. She had wanted to spend time with him, to feel loved and cherished by him. She was his entire world, but he had failed miserably at showing her that.

He wasn't sure if he could get her back. He had hurt her deeply, broke her heart, and he knew, probably lost her trust. She wouldn't come running back to him just because he moved back to Mystic Falls. She was too strong and independent for that. She had made him chase her from the beginning and he was sure she would make him work for it now. He was going to fight for her though. She had fought for their relationship for months. It was his turn now. He was going to come out swinging and if in the end, she still turned him down, it wouldn't be because he didn't fight with everything he had. He just had to figure out where to start.

His mind made up and his head spinning from the decisions he made, he blew out a long breath and stood. As he made his way back to the parking lot, he could understand why Elena came there to run at the crack of dawn. It was peaceful and offered the sense of being the only person in the world. It was a far cry from Central Park and a lot better for his soul.

The sight of his Camaro as he rounded a bend in the trail made the corner of his lips tick up in a smile. He wouldn't need his Mercedes-Benz any longer. He would sell it, or maybe, trade it in on a truck or SUV, something a little more appropriate for spending time at the mill and driving on snow-covered back roads that twisted and turned throughout Mystic Falls. He would finally be able to give the Camaro the time and attention it needed, tuning it up and restoring it to its glory days when his mother sat behind the wheel.

With a deep breath, he slid behind the wheel of the Chevy. The engine rumbled to life and he blew out one more breath as he put the car into reverse in an effort to calm his churning nerves. He was going to do this. He was coming home.

* * *

><p>When he returned to the Boarding House, he found Stefan lounging on the couch in pajamas, half watching a reality show about gator hunting while playing on his laptop.<p>

"I take it you're not working today?" Damon asked. He fell onto the couch next to Stefan and opened the bag he had brought in with him. "Sausage or bacon?"

"I'm off for the next two days," Stefan answered, eyeing the bulging bag with The Grill's logo on it. "Sausage." Damon dug through his bag and found a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich.

"Hash browns?" he asked, passing the sandwich to Stefan.

"Hit me," Stefan agreed. Damon passed him a carton of hash browns and then dug out his own sandwich of choice. "What's all this for?"

"Don't know if you've noticed yet, but the cupboards are bare. With you actually staying at your place for a change and me not being here, no one has done any grocery shopping in a while."

"Well, thanks for breakfast," Stefan said. He glanced over at Damon as he unwrapped his sandwich. He had noticed Damon was gone when he woke up a couple hours ago. He knew Damon had gone to bed upset the night before, no matter how well he had hidden it. The run in with Elena and their subsequent talk in the kitchen about happiness had taken its toll. He knew Damon wouldn't answer him outright if he asked where he'd been, so he decided to ask leading questions to figure it out, just like he would with a patient he suspected wasn't telling the full story behind their injuries. "You fly back to New York today, right? Or is it tomorrow?" Damon took a bit of his sandwich and chewed before answering. If there was anyone he could confide in about his plans, it would be his brother.

"I'm actually going to stick around a few more days," he ventured. "Got some things to figure out."

"Such as?" Stefan asked curiously.

"Such as, where I'm going to set up my new office and how I'm going to get Elena back. Which, I guess means I'll also be going grocery shopping at some point. Seeing as there are no grocery delivery options and a limited number of restaurants around here, I guess I'll have to learn how to do that particular domestic chore past picking up a couple cans of soup and a bag of chips." Stefan looked at Damon.

"Set up an office?" he asked. "What's that mean?" Damon blew out a breath.

"I read dad's letter," he admitted. "A few times, actually. As much as I hate to say it, you were right. It put a number of things into perspective, explained a lot of things. I've needed to make some changes in my life for a long time, since before I met Elena, even. It's past time for that to happen. I've been thinking about it for a while, but really gave it some thought in the last day or so. It's time for me to come home." Stefan was silent for several long moments. Damon continued to eat his breakfast, letting his brother absorb his news.

"It's about time," Stefan finally said. "I had kind of gotten used to your witty and oh so welcoming comments greeting me every time I walk through the door of this place. It was getting too quiet around here without you."

"You bring up an excellent point," Damon said seriously. "You're really going to have to start calling before you come over, seeing as this place is now my permanent address. And knocking. Definitely going to have to start knocking." Stefan chuckled.

"I'll knock," he agreed, knowing he would do no such thing. He held out his fist to Damon. "Welcome home, brother." Damon grinned ever so slightly. He reached out and bumped fists with Stefan.

"I'm not quite home yet," he said, thinking of Elena. "But I'm a hell of a lot closer than I was."

* * *

><p>Elena was exhausted but happy as she dragged herself up the sidewalk. The lake house had never looked more welcoming. She hadn't seen it in forty-four days, not that she had counted. It had been six weeks and two days since she last slept in her own bed, six weeks and two days since she cooked in her own kitchen, and six weeks and two days since she took a shower in her own bathroom. Every moment of her book tour had been incredible and the book, released six weeks ago to the day, had been selling well, landing on the bestseller list. But, she was glad to be home.<p>

Her agent had arranged for her to take a red eye home from the west coast, per her request, and had a car waiting for her at the Charlottesville airport to drive her to her lake home. Jenna and Ric had protested, saying she should stay with them as it was closer to Charlottesville and they would drive her home the next day, but she had turned them down with a promise to visit as soon as she had a few hours of sleep. She simply wanted her own bed and some time to herself before rejoining the Mystic Falls community.

The tour had done her mind well. She wasn't over Damon, exactly, but the distance from both Mystic Falls and New York had helped, as had the hectic schedule that kept her hopping from book store to book store. There had been a few moments of weakness, especially when her tour put her in New York for two days of signings and a talk show appearance. It had taken every ounce of willpower she had not to go to Damon's apartment, just to see him again, even if she had no idea what she would have done when she arrived on his doorstep. She hadn't been able to stop herself from looking over her shoulder for him everywhere she went on the off chance they would run into one another on the busy city sidewalks.

Because the universe tended to work in mysterious ways, she hadn't seen Damon, but she had ran into his friend Rose at a Starbucks during morning rush hour. Rose had hugged her like she was an old friend and said she was sorry to hear things hadn't worked out between her and Damon. Elena didn't ask about Damon, but Rose had supplied a bit of information on her own accord, saying she hadn't talked to him in a while, but had heard he had been traveling a lot.

She still thought of Damon often. She still missed the feeling of his arms around her and the smell of his cologne. She missed those moments when they would sit together with their morning coffee and steal a few minutes from the day ahead. She missed the intimate moments, moments where Damon, so tough and strong in appearance, would turn gentle and tender, just for her. But she still believed she made the right decision to walk away. She loved him, still did, but she couldn't keep sacrificing her happiness. She couldn't keep waiting for him to make her a priority. He had some lessons to learn and she couldn't keep waiting for him to figure those out.

With a content sigh, she climbed the porch stairs, digging through her purse while the driver brought the rest of her bags to the porch. It was still extremely cold in Virginia, especially for early March. Patches of snow dotted the lake landscape and she had heard the forecaster on the radio say they were in for another snow storm in a few days. She was hoping they were right, visions of curling up by her fireplace with hot chocolate and a book without the pressure of deadlines, at least for a while, while snow fell outside already dancing through her thoughts.

"Thank you," she told the driver with a smile. She slipped him a tip, even though her agent had assured her it was all taken care of. He replied with his thanks and left, leaving her to get her luggage the rest of the way inside. She finally found her keys and reached for the handle of her screen door. An envelope that had been tucked between the screen door and its frame fluttered to the floor when she opened it, catching her attention. She frowned and bent to pick it up.

Her breath caught in her chest.

She recognized the messy scrawl on the outside of the envelope. It was as familiar to her as the lines of her hand and yet foreign at the same time. It had been three and a half months since she had seen that scrawl. She stared at the envelope for several long moments before a frigid breeze brought her to her senses. She shook her head briefly and let herself inside.

She forced herself to bring her luggage in and then go through the motions of changing into pajamas, even though the sun was just starting to rise. Not until she had given the house a quick once over to make sure everything was in working order and unpacked her toiletries did she allow herself to pick the envelope up again. She climbed onto her bed, sighing audibly at the familiar surroundings, and, with a deep breath, opened the envelope. A business card fell out as she unfolded the thick paper he had chosen for whatever he had to say. She glanced at the card, saw Damon's name, but her attention was elsewhere. His note was short.

_Elena, _

_I've spent years making all the wrong choices. I might be too late, but I'm trying to make the right ones now._

_I rarely gave you a choice in our relationship. I decided when we spent time together, where we spent time together. The last choice you made about our relationship absolutely broke my heart. It was also the right one to make. _

_I've made a lot of choices in the last several weeks. The next choice is yours. _

_Always, _

_Damon _

Confused, she turned the paper over, expecting to see more. When she didn't, she re-read the note one more time, looking for some clue she might have missed. When she didn't find one, she picked up the business card.

The card itself was black. Embossed in metallic gold was "Damon Salvatore." But below it, divided by a thin gold horizontal line, were two job titles – "Salvatore Timber, Owner & Operator" and "Salvatore Agency, President & CEO." And there, below his all too familiar phone number and email address, was an address with a familiar zip code. She let out a gasp.

Damon had moved back to Mystic Falls.

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><p>"Mr. Salvatore?" Damon refrained from rolling his eyes before he looked up from the paperwork on his desk to find his assistant, Elliot, standing in the doorway of his office.<p>

"For the hundredth time…"

"Damon," Elliot said quickly. "Sorry. It's just… We used to call your father…"

"Mr. Salvatore, I know," Damon said with more patience than he felt. "What do you need?"

"Elena is here," Elliot said. He was working hard to hide the excitement in his voice, but he couldn't quite manage it, especially as he watched his boss sit up straighter as his eyes widened in surprise.

"She's here?" Damon repeated in disbelief. Elliot nodded.

"You said on Monday that if she happened to stop by at any point, to let you know immediately, no matter what you were doing. I know its Thursday, but I'm assuming that's still the case since you haven't said otherwise."

"Definitely still the case," Damon said with a nod. He reached up instinctively to straighten his tie, only to remember he didn't wear one these days. "Send her in."

"Right away, sir!" Damon did roll his eyes this time as Elliot bolted from his office. He had just enough time to get nervous as he listened to Elena's soft footsteps approach his office. Although he had braced himself to see her again, her appearance still caught him off guard. She stopped in his doorway, hesitating. He saw the business card in her hand and knew she had read his note. It had been four days of agony, wondering if she read it, if she had even gotten it. Now, she was here. It was almost like a magic trick.

"Hey," he choked out. It was the best he could manage.

"Hi," Elena replied tentatively. Damon pushed his chair back and stood.

"Come in," he said as he moved around the desk. "Have a seat."

"I only have a minute," Elena said. She stepped into the office, but didn't take a seat. Damon had been about to lower himself into one of the chairs across from his desk, but changed directions, leaning casually on his desk in an effort to at least appear calm and collected. "I said I'd watch Ella while Jenna and Ric go for an ultrasound."

"How are they doing?" Damon asked, trying to make conversation. He had ran into Jeremy at the grocery store a few weeks ago and the younger Gilbert had shared a selection of choice phrases with him for breaking his sister's heart. After that, he had managed to avoid Rick and Jenna, sure they both had a few more things to add to Jeremy's list. He would have to stop being a coward and face them eventually, but he hoped that would be after he had earned Elena back.

"They're good," Elena said, offering no more. She crossed her arms in an attempt to hide her nerves. The move only made it more obvious to Damon that she was uncomfortable.

"That's good," Damon replied with a nod, his own nerves getting the better of him. He had rehearsed what he would say if and when Elena arrived at his office or on his doorstep or even if he happen to run into her around town, but now that the moment had arrived, he had forgotten everything he wanted to say.

"You left me a note," Elena stated after a few beats of silence. She didn't have much time, but she couldn't stand to sit around her house, debating on what to do about Damon's note any longer. She had no idea if she was making the right decision, but she had decided to trust her gut and came to the address on the business card. She had to at least find out what Damon wanted.

"I did," Damon confirmed. He ran a hand through his hair, another tell that he was nervous. He dropped his hands to the desk and drummed his fingers against the wood.

"Am I wrong in assuming you now live in Mystic Falls?" Elena guessed. She had deduced as much from his business card and note, but she needed to hear him say it.

"Your assumption would be correct," Damon said with a nod. "I'm still ironing out the details, but Mystic Falls is now home sweet home."

"What made you change your mind?" Elena asked.

"My dad," Damon answered. He looked at Elena. "And you." Elena sucked in a breath. Damon couldn't say things like that. Not now.

"Damon…," she started with a shake of her head.

"Elena, please," he interrupted. His tone was gentle, but there was a hint of urgency just below the surface. He knew her and he knew she was going to try to push him away. He couldn't give her the chance when they were already so far apart. "There's so much that I need to explain, so many things I need to tell you. I understand that I hurt you and that you're probably still angry at me. I deserve that. Just… let me explain. Let me tell you everything that's happened since...," his words faltered for a moment, "since you left. You can decide what happens next. Just – give me this one chance."

Elena sighed. There was a part of her that wanted to tell Damon to go to hell, if for no other reason than to keep him at a distance. She had been afraid of getting hurt when she entered into a relationship with him and her fears had become reality. But he was in Mystic Falls, seemingly as a permanent resident, and that had to mean something.

"I have to be at Jenna and Ric's soon," she told him. "I just… I stopped by before I lost my nerve. I'm guessing you'll need more than the five or so minutes I have right now?"

"I'd like more than five minutes," Damon replied. "But if that's all you're willing to give me, I'll talk fast." The corners of Elena's lips threatened to turn up into a smile.

"How about tomorrow evening?" she proposed. "Drive out to the lake. We can talk. Say around seven?"

"I'll be there," Damon confirmed. He knew his calendar was clear – it was amazing how much more free time he had these days – but he would move Heaven and earth to make sure he was at the lake at seven sharp tomorrow evening.

"I'll see you then," Elena said. She turned towards the door to leave. Damon stood quickly.

"Let me walk you out," he said.

"You don't have to…"

"I'm already on my feet," he said, cutting off Elena's protest. He motioned towards the door. "After you." Elena decided to humor him. Neither of them spoke as they walked down the hall although Elena did mutter a polite goodbye to Elliot as she passed his desk in the reception area. Damon ignored the mill employees who were scattered throughout the big open room, sure they were dying to know why Elena had paid him a visit. They had already made it their mission to know everything there was to know about his love life, despite his best attempts at brushing them off.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Elena asked as they stepped outside into the cold air. Despite the cool temperatures, the mill was alive and busy a few hundred yards away from the office area.

"Tomorrow," Damon confirmed. "Seven o'clock. I'll bring dinner." Elena shook her head.

"We're having a serious conversation, Damon," she reminded him. "This isn't a casual visit." Damon had to take a beat to keep himself from arguing. He had to play by Elena's rules right now. They were meeting on her turf and she wanted to keep things as casual as possible. He could forgo one dinner with her if it meant even the possibility of a future full of them.

"No dinner," he agreed. "But I'll still be there at seven."

"We'll see," Elena muttered under her breath as they arrived at her car. Damon didn't let on that he had heard, but he vowed to himself to not only be on time, but to show up just a few minutes early. Only his actions would prove to her that things had changed, that she was the priority she had always deserved to be. "Let me know if something comes up and you can't make it."

"I'll be there," Damon said firmly. He reached out and opened Elena's car door for her. "Drive safe, okay? There's some black ice on the road between here and Mystic Falls."

"I'll be fine," Elena told him as she slid behind the wheel. "I'll see you tomorrow." Damon heard the doubt in her voice.

"Tomorrow," he echoed. He had to fight to keep himself from leaning in and kissing her goodbye. He started to shut the door, but stopped himself just before it closed. He pulled it open just enough to see Elena. "Thanks for stopping by," he told her. "I'm glad you did."

"I had to see it to believe it," Elena said, alluding to his move to Mystic Falls. He nodded in understanding.

"I know," he said. "There's going to be a lot of that." Elena looked at him for a long moment before nodding once. He realized she didn't believe a word he said. "Drive safe, 'Lena." He closed the door then and took several steps back, watched as she backed out of her spot and drove away.

With a deep breath, he turned to head back inside, shivering against the cold. He had his work cut out for him if he was going to convince Elena he had changed and that she could trust him to be there for her.

It was a good thing he had never been one to back down from a challenge.

* * *

><p><strong>Bit of a time jump in this, so I hope y'all followed! When Damon and Elena crossed paths in the chapter before Giuseppe's letter (and the start of this one picks up right where that one left off), it had been two months since their breakup. Elena's book tour took her out of Mystic Falls for six weeks, giving Damon time to make a lot of changes while she was gone. By the end of the chapter, it's been 3 and a half months since they broke up - enough time for them to process what happened and react like adults. :)<strong>

**This is also a good time to share that I've been Damon. I used to work in the music business in Nashville. It was great in a million ways and I've met people I only dreamed of meeting. But after a couple years, it wasn't fulfilling. I decided to return to my Virginia hometown and it was the best decision I've made, second only to where I decided to go to college (GO VOLS!). And, I still manage to do a bit of music industry work. :) **

**So - I understand what Damon is experiencing. I inadvertently wrote some of my own story into this without really realizing I was doing it. Funny, how that happens. **

**Damon is home. Now, it's time to earn Elena back. **


	32. Lakeside

**Every single time I post an update, I end up completely humbled. You all just amaze me. 800+ reviews? Is this real life?! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I love you all. **

**Things I don't own: Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Damon pulled to a stop next to Elena's small SUV at exactly five minutes to seven. He had been within the lake community's limits for the last hour, taking no chances at being late. He had passed the time at a nearby coffee shop, watching the clock with hawk eyes. He was sick with nerves, knowing he was about to make the speech of his life. What unfolded over the next hour would change everything. Whether for better or for worse remained to be determined.<p>

With one more deep breath, Damon got out of his Camaro. He had spotted Elena almost as soon as he rounded the bend of her drive. She was seated in an Adirondack chair near the lake's edge, flames glowing in a fire pit as she gazed out into the darkness. He sighed to himself. He was doing this on Elena's terms which meant neutral ground, even at her own home.

He approached her slowly. She was dressed down in jeans and a quilted jacket, a thick blanket tossed over her lap. Illuminated by the flickering flames, she was beautiful, the lake, even in the dark of late winter, providing an idyllic background for what was going to be a hard discussion.

"Hey," he greeted softly as his boots crunched over the frozen ground. Elena looked at him for the first time since he arrived.

"You're here," she replied. She couldn't hide the note of surprise in her voice. He felt a pang of guilt, knowing his past behavior gave her no reason to expect him to stay true to his word and arrive at seven, just as they had planned.

"I told you I would be," he said. He stopped when he reached her, but didn't take a seat in the empty Adirondack chair that was positioned across from her. "It's a little chilly out," he ventured. He wanted to scoop her up and take her inside where it was warm, but he was going to let her lead.

"There's an extra blanket," Elena said, nodding towards the chair. He nodded, accepting that they were going to do this outside, and took the seat that was meant for him. He didn't unfold the blanket, but laid it across his lap. Between his jacket and the warmth coming from the fire pit, the temperature was tolerable.

"Speak up if you get cold," Damon told her seriously. Elena nodded in agreement.

"You wanted to talk?" she prompted. Damon sighed to himself. He had hoped to ease into this, have a few minutes to break the ice, but she wanted to get right down to business. He blew out a breath. He had spent a lot of time thinking about how to explain, where to begin. In the quiet of the Boarding House, unable to sleep the night before, he had rehearsed what he wanted to say, over and over again. In the presence of Elena though, he couldn't remember any of it. He would have to wing it. He sent up a quick prayer to whoever would listen and began.

"I didn't tell my father goodbye." Elena raised her eyebrow. She had expected Damon to lead with an apology, not an anecdote about his father. "You know what that's like, to not get a chance to say goodbye to someone you love. But unlike me, you didn't have a chance. Your parents were here one minute and gone the next. I could have said goodbye. I had the chance to do that. But I was proud and selfish. I'll never get that time back. I should have been here in his last days. I should have told him goodbye." Damon paused for a moment and swallowed hard. "I should have apologized."

He had been thinking a lot about how he spent his father's final days, ignoring repeated phone calls, text messages and emails from Stefan while he gallivanted around New York City, dipping in and out of bars, sleeping his way through a string of women and rubbing elbows with his famous clients. He had no way of knowing what his father had wanted to say to him, but regardless, he should have been a better man. He should have been at his father's bedside and been there to support Stefan, no matter how he felt towards his father at the time. It was something he would never forgive himself for.

"I spent nearly my entire life thinking my father didn't give a damn about me," he continued. "In hindsight, it was so obvious how wrong I was about him. I was too far in my own head, too absorbed in my own perception of the world, to realize he was doing everything any good parent would do in an effort to help me. He was trying to reach me, trying to get me to straighten up. He was trying to keep me from throwing my life away.

"He left me a letter. I don't think I told you about it." Elena shook her head, listening intently. She wasn't sure what Giuseppe Salvatore had to do with anything, but she was intrigued all the same. "At the reading of his will, Chester, the lawyer, gave Stefan and me letters Dad wrote us. I tossed mine aside. I didn't give a damn about what he had to say. I didn't read it until the day I ran into you and Ella on the street.

"I was sitting in the kitchen that night, drinking bourbon and wallowing in self-pity. Stefan came in and he'd had just a shitty day, lost four members of a family of five. We started talking and he asked me if I was happy. I admitted that I wasn't, not just because I had lost you, but because I was just completely exhausted. I was worn out. He told me to read my letter – the same advice he gave me a few times before. I finally pulled it out that night.

"It was long. Dad talked about how hard things were right after Mom died. I never thought of it from his perspective. Even as a small child, I knew he loved Mom beyond anything else. I never thought about the fact that he lost his wife, the love of his life, and gained an infant son in virtually the same moment. I can't imagine how hard that must have been for him." Damon gazed at Elena. "I know how much losing you hurts, and you're still here." Elena shifted in her chair, but remained quiet.

"He told me how he realized the day of my seventh birthday party that he had been neglecting me. He tried to tuck me in that night, start righting some wrongs. Even then, I pushed him away. He tried to bribe me after that. I'd forgotten all about it until now, but for a while, he was buying me whatever I wanted, taking me to amusement parks and bounce houses and miniature golfing, anything to get me to bond with him. As I got older, he tried tough love.

"I was an asshole as a teenager, Elena. I skipped classes, stayed in trouble. When Dad tried to discipline me, I would just walk out the door and not come back for days at a time." Damon shook his head in disbelief. "I was horrible. He did everything he could to get me on the straight and narrow. He said in his letter that he saw so much potential in me, wanted me to live up to it. That's why he stayed on me about going to college and doing something with my life.

"He said he was proud of me." Damon stopped and drew in a breath. Of all the things his father had revealed to him through his letter, the fact that Giuseppe was proud of him was the one he cherished most. Elena could tell he was struggling to tell her everything. She had to resist the desire to reach for him, comfort him. "He was proud of the man I've become, what I've accomplished. Although I don't know how proud he would be of me in recent months.

"I thought he left me the mill and the house to punish me. I thought it was one last attempt to control me from the grave. But it wasn't. He knew I would be lost, would need some guidance. He wanted me to remember that I had a home, a family. And he trusted me. He believed I could take the mill and make it great. That means everything to me, Elena. He trusted me with our family's legacy.

"I'm a lot more like him than I realized," he continued, the right words falling out of him. "He left Mystic Falls the moment he graduated high school too. He took off for California, ended up working his way through wine country for several years. But he came home for the holidays one year, fell in love with my mom, and moved back here within two months. I didn't know about that until I read his letter." Elena shifted in her chair. Giuseppe's story seemed to mirror Damon's almost exactly. Damon sighed.

"I screwed up," he said bluntly. "I was so determined to prove my father wrong, show him I wasn't the failure I believed he thought I was, that I got caught up in my own chaos. I tried to do it all. I tried to be a sports agent. I tried to run the mill. And as grandly as I failed, I tried to be your boyfriend. You got the short end of it all. You got what was left over of my time, which was virtually nothing.

"Stefan asked me if I was happy. And then throughout my letter, my dad kept telling me to be happy, to live a good, full life. I wasn't doing that. I wasn't happy. I haven't been for a long time, since even before Dad passed away. Then, I came here for his funeral. And while I was here, I fell in love with you, and you changed everything."

"Damon, don't say things like that," Elena said softly.

"Why not?" Damon asked. There was the slightest of challenges in his voice. "Why not say it? It's true. I walked up to you at the repass with the intentions of sneaking off into a coat closet. I ended up falling in love with you instead. I never wanted to fall in love again, not after Katherine, who I know now I didn't actually love, not the way I love you. You made me start to think about things past what contract I could sign next, what athlete I could represent next. You made me start thinking about things like settling down, getting married, having a family. So, I'm going to say it. You changed everything."

"Damon…," Elena started, but stopped. She was confused and didn't know where to start. She loved him and most of her wanted to fall into his arms and forgive him without him so much as having to ask. But she also needed to hear him apologize, needed to see him make the effort she had needed three months ago. She couldn't let him off the hook after a few well-placed turns of the tongue. He had always been good with words.

"I messed up," Damon continued. "I knew I was doing it. I knew I was taking everything you gave me and giving very little back. We kept having the same fight – I'd promise we would spend time together and then a meeting would come up, or I'd drag you off to a football game you didn't want to be at or a dinner you had no interest in attending. I kept apologizing and you kept forgiving me. Until I used up all my chances.

"You were right to walk away. You should have walked away before you did. You should have gotten on a flight back to Mystic Falls the second I traded in our Thanksgiving dinner together for steaks and beer with the football team. I didn't deserve you from the beginning and I certainly didn't deserve you in the end. I took you for granted. I put you last. I didn't stop to think about how my actions were hurting you. You were too good to me, Elena. Far better than I deserved."

"Being with you was exhausting," Elena admitted softly. She hadn't said much so far and her voice took Damon by surprise. He sat up straighter, ready to hang on to her ever word. "I wanted us to work so badly. I tried to be patient and understanding. You took on so much, have so many responsibilities. I kept waiting for you to be less busy, to have more time. Then I was waiting for you to put me first, put our relationship first.

"When you asked me to move to New York, I thought that was a step in the right direction," she told him. "Nothing was settled, but I saw it as validation that you wanted our relationship to work. But the night you came in late and were so focused on work and nothing else, I saw what our relationship would be like if I did move to New York. I couldn't do that. I couldn't sit on the sidelines until you had time for me. I needed more than that. I deserved more than that. Walking away felt like the only choice I had. And it was one of the hardest things I've ever done."

Damon ached to go to her, to pull her to him and hold her until she forgave him, no matter how much she fought or how long it took. Instead, he clasped his hands together to stop himself from reaching for her and took a few steadying breaths before he spoke again.

"I wanted us to work too," he told her. He made sure to lock eyes with her. "I still do." Elena sucked in a breath.

"Damon…" She was at a loss. So she shook her head and waited for him to continue.

"After you left, I sat on my couch with my head in my hands and all I could think was 'I should have gotten Thai food,'" he admitted. "If I would have just put the damn computer down for an hour and went to that Thai place with you, you wouldn't have left. And then the worry started to creep in. I didn't know where you were, if you were safe. I needed to know you weren't out in the cold or dead on the street somewhere. No text message in the history of text messages has meant as much as the one you sent me saying you were okay."

"I went to a hotel a few blocks away," Elena told him. "I booked a flight home as soon as I got to my room. The only thing harder than leaving you, was burying my parents. But I had to leave. I had to look after myself, do what was best for me. I wasn't happy, sitting on the sidelines. I couldn't keep doing it."

"I'm sorry, Elena," Damon said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"I believe that," Elena said with a nod. "You were always sincere in your apologies. It was the not doing it again part that you sucked at." Damon let out a sigh. She was hurt, even a bit angry. He deserved worse than the snarky comment she had just thrown at him, but he still hated hearing the bite to her voice.

"It was all I could do to push myself through the next few weeks," he said, trying to convey to her how hard he had taken her leaving. "I fell asleep on the couch at some point after you left. I woke up to my phone ringing. I didn't get those contract edits in or submit payroll. It was cruel irony. I was so focused on getting those things done that I pushed you aside. And then I lost you, and I didn't get them done at all. I spent the whole next day trying to fix mistakes – trying to find you and get you to come back, trying to make sure Harper didn't lose his job and the people at the mill who depend on their paychecks actually got them.

"You wouldn't answer my calls. I texted. I emailed. I sent you Facebook messages. I was pretty damn pathetic." Elena cracked a small smile.

"You did come across as desperate," she agreed.

"I should have gotten on a plane and come after you," Damon said with a shake of his head. That was another thing he regretted. "But I got in my own way. I knew you would reject me again and I couldn't handle it a second time. I love you too much." Elena noticed how Damon kept using the present tense when he referred to them. "Rather than come after you, I tried to push forward. I spent every minute of every day trying to keep myself busy so I wouldn't think of you and how lonely and miserable I was." Damon shook his head.

"I spent Christmas reformatting the mill's budget for the New Year. Hours and hours of adding columns, taking columns away, color coding, breaking out each department's budget from the master sheet. When I finally ran out of stylistic things I could change about it, I started adding it all up, making sure it equaled out, regardless of the fact that I spent hours on the damn thing before Thanksgiving, going over it line by line with my accountant. New Year's, I re-organized my office. I found an office supply store that was open and bought all these containers and a label maker and just went nuts. Anything to distract myself.

"I know I disappointed Stefan when I didn't reply to him about his engagement, but the truth is, it just hurt too much. I was jealous. He got the happily ever after – just like always. Meanwhile, I was running through Central Park after midnight because I couldn't sleep and if I stopped moving, I would think about you and everything I lost.

"I put it off as long as I could, but eventually, I had to come back to Mystic Falls," he continued. "I had to put in some time at the mill, take care of some things. I put forth a valiant effort at avoiding you. I stuck close to the Boarding House. If I wasn't at the Boarding House, I was at the mill. I even drove all the way to Charlottesville to get groceries so I wouldn't run the risk of running into you at the store or at one of the three restaurants in town. So of course, fate intervened and sent Ella plowing into me on the sidewalk."

"I knew you were in town," Elena admitted. "It wasn't exactly a well-kept secret. One mill employee told another and then they told someone else and then Caroline found out and offered to emasculate you in my honor. I was hoping I wouldn't run into you either. I didn't know what I would do." She studied him for a long moment, Damon waiting for her to say whatever she was working out in her head. "I knew you were here before I left on my book tour," she finally said, "but I had no idea you moved back. I talked to Caroline and Jenna almost every single day that I was gone. I talked to Bonnie and Bex several times a week. I talked to Stefan, even. None of them said a thing."

"I asked Stefan not to," Damon confessed. "He didn't even tell Rebekah that I was moving back. Which was quite the fight, from what I understand. She's Team Elena in all of this."

"There aren't sides to take," Elena said with a shake of her head.

"Except there are," Damon countered. "I screwed up. You got hurt. Of course, there are sides. And everyone is on yours, just like they should be." Elena just shook her head.

"Even if you managed to get Stefan to stay quiet, how did you manage to keep it under wraps that you moved back?" she asked.

"Stefan is the only person I told," he explained. "I couldn't just up and move. I had to go back to New York, do some restructuring at the agency and get them up to speed on my plans, get my clients up to speed. I had to pack my apartment and put it on the market. All of that took a few weeks. I had some business travel in there too that had already been scheduled. Movers dropped my stuff off at the Boarding House about a week before you came back. I showed up at the mill and started working in my father's office, waited to tell everyone that I was staying until the day after you got back. I wanted to be the one to tell you, even if that was through a letter."

"So, you're really back?" Elena asked. She couldn't hide the hopeful tone in her voice, even if she wanted to. Damon didn't reply. Instead, he reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He removed his driver's license and passed it to her.

"I had to provide two proofs of address, my birth certificate, social security card, and passport to get that piece of plastic, but I think you'll recognize the address." Elena looked at his driver's license and nodded in confirmation.

"It's the Boarding House," she said, handing it back to him. "And your birthday is six days after mine."

"I know," Damon said with a slight smirk. He had to stop himself from jumping ahead of himself as thoughts of what they could do to celebrate their birthdays, still a few months away, started to form. He watched as she pulled her blanket around her tighter to ward off the cool air. He didn't hesitate to pass her his still folded blanket.

"I'm okay…"

"No, you're cold," Damon countered. "I'm good by the fire. You use that blanket." Elena nodded and unfolded the blanket, the second layer immediately adding warmth. She had intended to keep Damon at arms' length and that meant not letting him back into her home, at least not yet. She didn't trust herself in close quarters with him.

"So, what's your plan?" she asked once she'd settled back into her chair. "You read a letter from your dad, moved here after passionately declaring there wasn't a chance in hell you would ever call Mystic Falls home again. Do you actually have a plan, Damon, or are you just flying by the seat of your pants and hoping this works out?"

"Both," Damon admitted. "I have a plan. I restructured the agency. I promoted a few people, delegated the clients I was handling to my employees. I'm still working with Harper and Enzo and a couple other high profile guys, but I've handed off everyone else. I even promoted myself. I'm officially 'President and CEO.'" Elena couldn't help but roll her eyes. The action made Damon chuckle.

"I'll have to go up to New York for a few days once a month or so, and I'll have the occasional business trip, but nothing like what I've been doing for the last several months," he told her. "It's been nice, to tell the truth, not having to hop on a plane every other day. My email is still out of control, but I'm just cc'd on stuff now instead of having to respond to it directly. It's a lot more manageable."

Elena nodded, listening to him. He seemed more relaxed, more composed then he had been in a while. She had only spent time with him outside of Mystic Falls a handful of times, but she had been able to see Damon's stress level rise and fall, based on whether he was in Mystic Falls or some other city. He was wound tight in New York and Dallas, but he calmed down in Mystic Falls, let his guard down.

"As for the mill… I spend a lot of time pretending I know what I'm doing," he admitted. "Fake it until you make it, I guess. I can run a business. I understand all the legalities and things like taxes and health insurance and employee rights. But I know nothing about the timber business. I've been reading up on it, learning the ins and outs of imports and exports, figuring out what kind of wood is protected by federal laws. Then there's the process of it all and turning the sawdust into particle board or wood pellets… When Pete starts talking to me about that stuff, I just nod and take mental notes on what to Google later. But I'm getting the hang of it, I think."

"Sounds like it, at least," Elena said. Damon shrugged.

"I like it," he confessed. "It's good, honest work. And it's what shaped my family's legacy. I'm in charge of it now, and if I want to pass it down to my own kids, I have to figure out how keep it successful." Elena's heart constricted as Damon mentioned children of his own. She had always wanted children and had started to daydream of children with Damon before their relationship had crashed and burned. But he had never let on one way or another how he felt about kids.

"But?" Elena prompted, knowing there was more.

"But, there's been a hell of a lot of changes in my life over the last six weeks," he said. "I made choices based on what I want, what feels right. Whether or not I'm making the right choices remains to be seen. All of this could blow up in my face. But I have to try. I have to see what happens."

"What do you want to happen?" Elena asked carefully. They both knew what she was really asking – what did he want from her? Damon blew out a breath.

"I want this to work," he said. "I want to be able to balance the mill and being an agent with having a real, actual life." He leaned forward and was about to reach out for Elena's hand when he remembered himself. Instead, he clasped his hands together and placed his elbows on his knees. "I want the chance to earn you back." He watched as Elena lifted her eyes to him.

"Earn me back," she repeated as though she were testing out the words to see how they sounded. Damon nodded.

"I don't deserve it," he told her seriously. "You gave me chance after chance and I blew them all. I'm not asking to walk away from here tonight with you as my girlfriend. I don't expect you to forgive me tonight. I'm asking you to hit the reset button. Give me a chance to show you that things will be different. I know I can tell you I'll be better, that I won't go back to the way things were. But I've said all that before. I need to prove myself to you. I need to show you, through actions, that I'm not going to be that guy again. That's why I'm asking you to hit the reset button with me. Start from the beginning."

"You hurt me," Elena told him after several moments. "I felt neglected, like I was your last choice. I don't want to feel like that again."

"You won't," Damon promised. "But like I said, I have to show you. I've told you a number of times that things would be different and then blew it. I'll prove myself to you, if you'll let me." And then, for the first time in far too long, he did what he had been wanting to do for the last three months. He reached forward and took her hand. He felt a piece of his heart click into place as their hands joined.

"You should know, I'm going to fight for you," he informed her. "I'm merely being polite, asking you for a chance. I'm going to do everything I can to earn you back, to get you to trust me again." His throat suddenly constricted. "I'll do whatever it takes to get you to love me again." Elena felt her heart break. He truly believed she had fallen out of love with him when nothing could be further from the truth.

"Damon, loving you has never been the problem," she told him with a shake of her head. "It was all the other stuff – the not calling, not making time for me."

"All of that changes now," he promised. He squeezed her hand.

"The whole moving to Mystic Falls thing was a pretty good place to start," Elena told him, the faintest of grins threatening to spread across her lips. Damon chuckled.

"I was hoping that minor detail would make a good first impression."

"It did," Elena said with a nod. She looked at their hands which still seemed to fit together so perfectly, despite their time apart. "I'm still mad at you," she told him quietly. "You hurt me and that doesn't just go away because you moved back here and made a grand speech."

"I know," Damon nodded. "You have every right to be mad at me. I'm not too happy with myself, honestly. But I'm going to make it up to you." Elena nodded in response and squeezed his hand again.

"So, moving to Mystic Falls was your first move," she said. "What comes next?"

"Well," Damon said, his thumb brushing over the back of Elena's hand, "first, I'm going to put this fire out. Then, I'm going to walk you to your door. You're freezing."

"I'm okay," Elena protested, even as she shivered. Damon shook his head in amusement.

"You're a terrible liar," he said. He squeezed her hand one more time and then stood, missing the connection the moment her hand slid from his. He had noticed a bucket set off to the side of the chairs earlier. Now, he picked it up and went to the lake's edge. He dipped it into the icy water and then doused the fire. It sizzled as the cold met the hot and they were plunged into darkness, the only light coming from Elena's house a football field away.

"Now I really am cold," Elena confessed. She pulled the blankets tighter around herself.

"Come on," Damon directed. "I'll walk you to your door." Elena nodded and stood, the blankets still draped around her shoulders. Damon placed a hand on her lower back. The gesture made Elena smile to herself. Damon was always protective of her, even at his worst. He guided her up the path to her house and climbed the porch stairs with her. He stopped at her door.

"Want to come in?" she asked, trusting herself around him more now. "I'll make us some coffee to warm us up." To her disappointment – which surprised her – Damon shook his head no.

"Baby steps," he told her. He ran a hand up her blanket-covered arm. "I laid a lot on you tonight. You go inside, get warmed up. I'm going to head back to Mystic Falls, turn in for the night." Elena chewed on her lip for a few moments.

"So, what happens next?" she asked. He smirked.

"I run into you accidentally on purpose."

* * *

><p><strong>Damon is earning Elena back. I wanted to point that out - no woman (or man) is a prize to "win" back. We all deserve to be earned back. Damon knows that now - he knows what he had with Elena was something special. So he's going to earn her back. <strong>

**My favorite line in this update is when Elena asked Damon if he actually had a plan or was flying by the seat of his pants. He does have a very loose plan, but he made a lot of changes and that's part of why they're going to be taking things a bit slow. Elena also has a few things she wants to tell Damon and an apology of her own to make, but for now, it was Damon's turn. **

**I'm writing the final chapters now. I'd say we have approximately 5 chapters left, maybe more, maybe less. But I am so proud of this piece. Thank you all for reading! **

**Please let me know what you think!**


	33. Breakfast

**I've been working on the final chapters of this story and its so bittersweet! I'm going to miss writing this one, although I'm so proud of it - it's gone further than I ever thought it would! **

**This update is a bit short, but I'm going to be traveling to the opposite coast this week, so I wanted to get something up before I get on a plane. I think y'all will like this one. :) **

**Thank you so much for all of your kind words, reviews and support. I adore each and every once of you! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Damon whistled to himself as he made his way down the stairs of the Boarding House. He had woken up in an especially good mood, for no real reason other than the fact that the sun was shining. Mystic Falls and his restructured life were agreeing with him. He had gotten more sleep in the last few weeks then he had in months and though he didn't have the numbers to compare, he was certain the lack of traffic had done wonders for his blood pressure.<p>

It had been a week to the day since he talked to Elena at the lake. He hadn't seen her since, not so much by choice as by strategy. He was giving her space, letting her get used to the idea that he was back in Mystic Falls and had every intention of pursing her relentlessly. They had been apart three months, he could give her one more week to process everything he had dropped on her. But he was growing restless and had spent much of the last 24 hours trying to dream up a way to run into her and put his plan to woo her back into his life in motion.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, a voice floated from the kitchen. He rolled his eyes, ever so slightly annoyed that Rebekah was there, again. He tried to feign annoyance at his brother's tendency to turn up at the Boarding House whenever he had more than a day off from the hospital which usually meant Rebekah was in tow. But in truth, he didn't mind. He was finding that he liked having Stefan around and his future sister-in-law really wasn't all that bad. She was at least good for getting a rise out of, something he enjoyed far more than he should have. He was dreaming up what he could tease her about this go around when he heard another voice which, while far away, was still extremely familiar. He grinned and picked up his pace.

"So, I'll see you tonight at Caroline's lingerie shower?" Rebekah was saying.

"Don't you mean Caroline's 'Bachelorette Weekend Extravaganza?'' Elena said. "At least I think that's the current working title?"

"I'm simply planning to drink all the wine and eat all the cheese and spend Sunday recovering at the spa," Rebekah countered. Damon stopped in the kitchen door, assessing the situation. Rebekah's back was to him as she made herself a travel mug of coffee. Her phone was on the kitchen island between them, speaker phone turned on so she could talk to Elena and finish up her morning routine before heading out the door. "When are you heading into Mystic Falls?"

"Later this morning," Elena answered. "I need to shower. I'm all sweaty after my run. I'm going to drive into Mystic Falls and set up shop at the coffee shop for a while. I have a feature story due for the _Mystic Falls Times _and a ton of emails I need to respond to about my book. I'm going to pick Ella up from preschool and hang out with her a bit before heading over to Jenna and Ric's to get ready." Damon smirked at his luck. Elena had just unknowingly given him the solution he had been looking for. He opened his mouth to make his presence known just as Rebekah turned and spied him. Her eyes narrowed as his smirk grew.

"It seems we have an eavesdropper," she told Elena.

"Good morning, ladies," Damon replied. "Especially to you, Elena. I have to say, your voice is far more welcome at 8AM on a Friday morning than that of my dear future sister-in-law."

"Hi, Damon," came Elena's voice. Damon thought he could hear a smile in her voice. Regardless, his heartbeat sped up.

"Eavesdropping is rude," Rebekah informed him.

"So is helping yourself to my food, but that didn't stop you," Damon countered.

"Jerk," Rebekah fired back. She reached behind her, picked up a carefully wrapped breakfast sandwich and threw it at Damon. He caught it easily as she picked up the phone and turned off the speaker phone. He gave her a hard time, but he had to hand it to her. When she stayed over, she tended to make enough breakfast to feed him as well as Stefan. As a bonus, she even cleaned up after herself. The three of them had formed a weird little system that was unconventional, worked.

"Thanks," he said. "Tell Elena I said to have a good day." Rebekah glared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. He knew she was firmly Team Elena and until Elena had completely forgiven him, she wouldn't quite forgive him either.

"Damon says for you to have a good day," she said into the phone. "She says for you to do the same," she added a few moments later. "I'm leaving. Your brother is asleep. Don't wake him – he was on call yesterday and the day before and didn't get in until really late last night."

"I'll let sleeping beauty have a lie in," Damon retorted, already unwrapping his sandwich.

"I mean it," Rebekah threatened as she gathered her things, her phone still to her ear. She disappeared from the kitchen, continuing her conversation with Elena about their weekend plans. He grinned to himself as he started the process of making his own travel mug of coffee. He was going to accidentally on purpose run into Elena. But first, he had to wake up Stefan. Because that was what big brothers did.

* * *

><p>He had timed it perfectly.<p>

Peering through the window of the coffee shop, he could see Elena at one of her favorite tables along the side wall, her laptop set up, a notebook and pen next to her. She bit her lip as she worked, her concentration solely on the screen in front of her.

Pleased with himself, he confidently strode into the coffee shop. He ordered a latte and waited patiently, glancing inconspicuously at Elena. She hadn't noticed him yet, which was exactly what he was hoping for, too wrapped up in her work to be aware of anything going on around her. He nodded his thanks to the barista who passed him his drink, ignoring her overly friendly smile. He turned and headed for Elena's table, his confidence suddenly wavering although no one would ever know it from looking at him.

"Fancy meeting you here," he drawled, stopping at Elena's table. She startled and looked up, her features relaxing as she realized it was Damon.

"Well, look at that," she said with a hint of a grin, already catching on to how Damon knew she would be at the coffee shop. "Imagine running into you here."

"What a coincidence," he replied. He placed a hand on the empty chair across from Elena. "May I?"

"You ask now?" Elena asked, her eyebrow raised. Damon smirked, recalling their first coffee shop encounter.

"I asked last time," he reminded her.

"I believe it was precursory," she shot back, the corner of her lips still turned upward. "You asked after you sat down."

"Details," Damon said with a shrug. Elena chuckled lightly.

"Have a seat," she said, nodding at the chair. Damon returned her smile and sat down across from her.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked.

"I'm nearly done with this piece," Elena said, indicating her screen. "Just doing some edits. My deadline is still several hours away, so you're safe. Besides, I wouldn't want to send you on your way after you drove a half hour for a five dollar latte."

"How do you know I didn't come here from my house?" he asked, leaning forward a bit, enjoying the loose banter between them. It had been too long since things had been light in his life. Far too long since things had been light between them.

"Stefan was in here earlier, grumbling about a certain brother of his who woke him up before sprinting out of the house to go to work."

"He's always ratting me out," Damon grumbled. He took a swig from his latte while Elena laughed. "I wanted coffee and it's not like there's a Starbucks between here and the mill."

"Definitely not like there's a top of the line coffee maker with a selection of gourmet coffee in the break room," Elena told him seriously.

"Sometimes a guy wants a latte," Damon said with a shrug. Elena just shook her head in amusement. A few moments of quiet passed as Elena proofed her work and Damon sipped his drink.

"So," Elena ventured, "what have you been up to this week?"

"Working by day, watching movies and reading books by night," he said. "It's been very exciting. How about you?"

"Nothing," Elena answered. "After my book tour, I have enjoyed doing nothing."

"It's nice, isn't it?" Damon asked almost contemplative. "Having time to do absolutely nothing?"

"It is," she agreed. She studied Damon for a long moment. "You look good, Damon," she told him. "It's good to see you without heavy bags under your eyes." Damon smiled sheepishly and looked down at the latte in his hands for a moment.

"Moving here has been good for me," he admitted, looking back at Elena. "It was weird at first, coming home after a day at the office and not having anything to do. I got used to it pretty fast though. I especially like the sleep." Elena chuckled.

"You've got a lot of sleep to catch up on," she said seriously.

"I do," Damon nodded. "I've got a lot of stuff to catch up on." They both knew Damon meant catching up on more than sleep. Elena smiled slightly and busied herself with editing a paragraph. Damon continued sipping his latte, content to just sit with Elena for a few minutes. He liked this, being able to relax, to escape from his to-do list for a little while and enjoy a cup of coffee without worrying about emails pouring in or rushing from one business meeting to another through New York City traffic.

"You know, I sort of expected you to accidentally on purpose run into me before now," Elena ventured. "Given you big speech at my house and all." Damon smirked. He had hoped she was waiting for him to make his move and it looked like she had been.

"I laid a lot on you," he told her. "I was giving you some time to take it all in." He eyed her. "Besides, have you left the lake this week?" Elena smiled and shook her head.

"No," she admitted. "I guess this would be the first chance you have had to accidentally on purpose run into me without straight up showing up on my doorstep."

"Guess so," Damon agreed. He finished off the last of his latte and took a deep breath. "Elena?"

"Yes?" she respond.

"Can I take you on a date?" he asked. "Please?" Elena couldn't stop the smile that broke across her face. She had had plenty of time to think over everything Damon had told her and had decided she was willing to hit the reset button. She was willing to start over, see what happened. She didn't quite trust Damon, but she trusted her heart which told her to give him a chance. He had made a lot of changes in his life and the least she could do was give him the opportunity to prove he was serious about making things work between them.

"I'd like that," she said softly. Damon smiled, a weight lifted off his shoulders.

"Thank you," he said. "I know you have Caroline's extravaganza or whatever she's calling it this weekend so how about Monday evening? I'll drive out to the lake, pick you up around six?"

"Monday at six would be perfect," Elena confirmed. "But I'll be at Ric and Jenna's. I'm going to crash there Sunday night. The high school asked me to come talk to their English classes, so I'm going to go and pretend like I know what I'm talking about when it comes to writing and being a Mystic Falls success story."

"You're a bestselling author," Damon reminded her. "Two times over, now. I'd say you know a thing or two about writing and being a Mystic Falls success story."

"I just got lucky," Elena said modestly. Damon rolled his eyes. Her sequel had been on the bestselling list since its release and showed no signs of going anywhere anytime soon. "Have you read the sequel yet?" she asked curiously. Damon shook his head guiltily.

"I haven't," he admitted. "You see, I'm holding out for a signed copy." The real reason he hadn't read her novel yet was that he had found it too hard. He had bought a copy of the book the day it had hit stores, but he had only managed to read the first page. Reading the words written by the woman he loved, words he knew she had sunk her heart and soul into, had been salt in his wounds.

"I hear those are hard to come by," Elena said seriously.

"They are indeed," Damon said with a nod. He locked eyes with Elena. "But I'm going to keep holding out hope." They exchanged a smile, both aware that Damon was no longer talking about the book. "I should get going," he said begrudgingly. "Let you get back to your work. And I guess I should get back to mine."

"I'll see you on Monday?" Elena asked.

"Six o'clock, sharp," Damon confirmed. He reached out, gently picked up Elena's hand, and squeezed. "Have fun this weekend." He felt her squeeze back gently, his heart mending at the sight of her smiling.

"Enjoy those books and movies." Damon chuckled and let her hand go.

"I will," he said with a grin. He stood and winked at her. "Bye, "Elena."

"Bye, Damon," she replied, still smiling. He turned and walked out of the coffee shop, tossing his empty cup in the trash as he passed a receptacle. He had a bit of a bounce in his step as he made his way to his car to head back to the mill. He had a date with Elena to prepare for.

* * *

><p><strong>I have a good friend from England who I use as inspiration for Rebekah. She's got this dry sense of humor that I adore and the girl loves her wine and cheese. <strong>

**I wanted to show a more relaxed Damon - he's getting some of his mojo back. Some of that sarcasm and wit. He's still adjusting, but he's settling in fairly nice. **

**Up next, first date, 2.0!**

**Let me know what you think!**


	34. Lobster

**Greetings from San Diego! For those of you who may live in San Diego, I love your town. I'm heading back to my coast in a handful of hours from the time I post this, but your town is gorgeous. And in order to make up for a shorter update, I present you with a longer one!  
><strong>

**A number of you last chapter asked if I plan to write anything else. The answer? Yep! I've already started working on it. :) **

**Thank you yet again for all of your kind words last chapter. I hope this one doesn't disappoint! And for the person who asked about a scene between Elena and Caroline, you may just be in luck!  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>"Care?"<p>

Caroline looked over her shoulder and smiled when she saw Elena. "Hey," she replied. Elena stepped out onto the luxury suite's balcony and shut the door, leaving the others to sleep peacefully.

"Everything okay?" Elena asked, settling on the lounge next to Caroline's.

"Yeah," Caroline nodded. "Just – thinking."

"About?" Elena prompted. Caroline shrugged.

"Nothing," she said. "Everything." She sighed. "I'm getting married, Elena." Elena nodded in understanding.

"You are," she agreed. She gave her friend a hard look. "You aren't having second thoughts are you?"

"What? No!" Caroline protested. "Of course not. Marrying Tyler is a dream come true. It's just – I'm getting _married, _you know? Married. Like, that's a big thing. It's the one thing I dreamed about my entire life and its finally happening. It's just – surreal." Elena smiled, understanding that her friend was having a hard time believing her wedding, still a month off, was actually reality.

"We used to play wedding all the time, remember?" she asked. "You were always the bride and me and Bonnie had to take turns being the groom and the pastor." Caroline laughed.

"I do remember that," she said. "We made Jeremy be the ring bearer until he finally got old enough to protest and mean it."

"We gave him a pot holder to use as a pillow," Elena recalled. "Tyler and Stefan would never play with us. They said playing wedding was dumb. Look at both of them, getting married in real life." Caroline laughed again.

"Funny, how it all happened." She shook her head. "I ended up with my high school sweetheart. Bonnie ended up with Jeremy. My money would have been on you and Stefan, but then he met Rebekah…" She trailed off then and looked at Elena. "And you… You might end up with Damon. That's probably the last thing any of us saw coming." Elena nodded.

"I certainly never saw it coming," she admitted. "He blew into town and it's been a whirlwind ever since."

"What's the story with the two of you anyway?" Caroline asked curiously. "I've been so wrapped up in last minute wedding stuff and decorating our new house that I haven't been a very good friend lately."

"Can it really be considered last minute wedding stuff if your wedding is still like a month away?" Elena asked. Caroline gave her a look that made Elena laugh again.

"Seriously, fill me in on you and Damon," she prodded. "What's happening there? Do I need to neuter him?" Elena shook her head with a fond smile at Caroline's protectiveness.

"We talked," she said. "He's learned a lot about his dad and, in turn, himself. He decided that being here, in Mystic Falls, was what he needed."

"Did he move back here for you?" Caroline asked point blank. Elena was silent for several long moments. Finally, she shook her head no.

"No," she said. "He didn't. He moved back here for himself. He was ready to come home. The fact that I'm here? That's just a bonus."

"I don't know," Caroline countered, the doubt clear in her voice. "Even at his worst, I didn't doubt that he loved you more than anything. He sucked at showing it, but the point is, he loved you. If his heart was broken enough, I could see him moving back here, for you." Elena shook her head again.

"He didn't move here for me," she said again. "Maybe a small part of him did, but he needed to learn a few things about himself and where he came from. When all that fell into place, he decided to come back to Mystic Falls."

"What did he find out about his dad that made him pack up his Big Apple life and move down here?" Caroline wondered.

"That's his story to tell, should he want to tell it," Elena answered. She instinctively knew, without Damon having to tell her, that she was the only one he had shared everything with and even then, she was pretty sure there were parts he had kept for himself. She thought Stefan knew bits and pieces of what Damon had garnered from his father's letter, but even he knew little. She would protect what Damon had told her as she understood that it was precious to Damon.

"So, what happens now?" Caroline asked.

"We have a date on Monday," Elena confessed. Caroline saw the smallest of smiles on her best friend's face. "He asked to start over. He moved back here, made all these changes. The least I can do is go on a date with him, see what happens."

"Where is he taking you?" Caroline pressed. Elena shrugged.

"I don't know," she said. "I guess we'll just wait and see."

"It better be somewhere good," Caroline stated. "Do me a favor and order the most expensive thing on the menu." Elena laughed.

"You are awful," she said.

"I'm looking out for my best friend," Caroline countered. She reached over, took Elena's hand, and squeezed. "Thanks for being here with me." Elena squeezed back.

"You've always been there for me," she replied. The days after her parents died played back in her mind. Caroline had been by her side practically from the moment she woke up in the hospital, holding her when she cried and giving her tough love when she needed it. Of everyone she had around her, it had been Caroline who had been her rock, sealing their bond deeper than that of best friends. "It's the least I can do, standing beside you on your big day." She bumped shoulders with Caroline playfully. "Bachelorette partying with you." Caroline laughed.

"I love you, Elena," she said.

"I love you too, Care." She reached for Caroline and hugged her. They were both misty eyed when they pulled away.

"Too much wine," Caroline mumbled. Elena snorted back a laugh.

"Come on," she said, standing and pulling Caroline to her feet. "Let's go to bed. We've got a lot of vineyards to get through tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Damon coughed violently, the coffee he was trying to pour in a travel mug missing its mark and landing on the counter.<p>

"Ahhh," he groaned, rubbing a hand across his chest. He pulled a few napkins off a nearby roll and used one to blow his nose. He tried to take a deep breath, but found he couldn't. His chest felt like it had a block of lead placed firmly in the middle of it. He winced as he swallowed, his throat burning and raw. With a sigh, he wiped up his mess, tossed the used paper towels in the trash, and attempted to stretch his arms over his head to rid them of the soreness he had woken up with. They felt heavy though, as if they weren't under his control. His legs ached just as badly, right along with his head.

"Morning," Stefan greeted, entering the kitchen dressed in clean hospital-issued scrubs. "Coffee ready?" Damon grunted in response. "You're cheerful," Stefan continued, opening cabinets in search of a travel mug of his own.

"You don't live here," Damon managed to croak out. His hoarse voice caught Stefan's attention. He turned and looked at his brother, sizing him up. He was pale and clammy, his nose red and his eyes tired.

"You're sick," Stefan stated.

"I'm fine," Damon countered.

"No, you're sick," Stefan insisted with a shake of his head. "Damn sick, by the looks of it."

"I'm fine," Damon said again. Stefan shook his head again.

"Do you have a fever?" he asked, moving towards Damon.

"What, are you going to check?" Damon asked, taking a couple steps backward.

"The flu is going around," Stefan answered patiently, slipping into doctor mode. He made to reach out and check Damon's forehead for heat, but Damon smacked his hand away. "Come on, Damon. Let me check you for a fever. If you have the flu – and even if you don't have the flu – you need to be in bed, getting some rest."

"I don't have the flu," Damon argued although his voice was too scratchy to be taken seriously. "What I have is a pain in the ass little brother who keeps crashing at my place even though his apartment is mere minutes from his job."

"Are you going to work?" Stefan asked, ignoring Damon.

"Clearly," Damon said, indicating his dark jeans and button down shirt, his standard work wardrobe these days. He barely squeaked out the word before he was hit by another coughing fit. "Dammit," he muttered when he regained control.

"Okay, upstairs," Stefan directed. "I'm going to assume you have the flu. Get into bed and stay there. Drink plenty of fluids, try to eat something. I'll call in a prescription and have Bex drop it off…"

"What are you, a doctor?" Damon interrupted. Stefan looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, shut up," Damon grumbled. He picked up his mug of coffee and intended to leave, only to be overcome with still another coughing fit. He let out a string of curse words once he worked through it.

"Seriously, Damon, you're sick," Stefan said, trying to reason with him. "You can't go into the office and make everyone else sick too. Go upstairs and get some rest. You'll be down and out for a few days, but as long as you take care of yourself, you should be starting to feel better by Thursday or Friday."

"I can't," Damon told him. "I have a date with Elena tonight. I can't miss that. So I can't be sick."

"Damon, I'm pretty sure Elena would understand," Stefan said gently. The date was news to him, but he was happy to hear they had plans. Elena was apparently giving him another chance. "She will want you to take care of yourself." Damon shook his head.

"I told her I'm taking her on a date tonight, so I'm taking her on a date tonight," he said firmly. "I've let her down enough. I'm not letting some stupid cold get in the way."

"You've got more than a cold," Stefan told him. "Call in sick and get your ass in bed. I'll call something in for you." Damon shook his head and turned to leave, still coughing.

"You go save someone's life or something. I'm going to work."

Stefan rolled his eyes at Damon's stubbornness and moved to fix his own coffee. Damon wouldn't make it through the day.

* * *

><p>He felt horrible.<p>

His head was splitting, his throat was burning, his chest was sore from frequent coughing fits and his entire body ached. Despite how miserable he was, he continued to push himself through his grooming routine, his mind set on picking Elena up promptly at six, a few minutes early if he could swing it. He couldn't let her down, especially when she had given him a chance to prove himself.

Another coughing fit later, one he had felt down deep in his lungs, he squeezed some shaving cream into his hand. His arms protested as he lifted his hands to his face, determined to shave the stubble away. Lathering his face had taken all his energy, however, so he leaned forward, bracing his arms on either side of the sink, and took a few steadying breaths, praying another spurt of energy would come along in order for him to maneuver the razor.

A knock sounded on his bedroom door, but he ignored it. Stefan had been nagging him all day, calling and texting throughout the day, encouraging him to go home and lie down, take some cold medicines and drink fluids. He had soldiered through the day despite his brother's protest, not that he could recall what he had actually done, something he would have to follow up on when he didn't feel like death, and now he was going to sweep Elena off her feet, even if he had next to no voice and kept having to stop what he was doing to blow his nose.

There was another knock, and again, he ignored it. He took another deep breath, telling himself he didn't have much time before he needed to leave to pick up Elena, and then straightened up, only to be overtaken by a coughing fit, this one the worst yet. His bedroom door opened just as he got himself under control. Footsteps were making their way toward his bathroom.

"Stefan, I've told you a thousand times today," he said without bothering to look to see who was in his room, "I'm fine. Mind your own damn business."

"Want to try that again?" Damon turned in surprise, shocked to see Elena in his doorway. She was dressed down in jeans and an old long sleeve shirt, her hair in a ponytail. She definitely wasn't dressed for a date.

"Elena…" he stuttered. "What… Why are you… I'm picking you up…" She smiled and shook her head.

"You sound horrible," she informed him. "And you look even worse."

"I'm fine," Damon insisted. Elena just shook her head again and entered the bathroom. When she was close enough, she reached out to rest a hand on Damon's forehead although she hadn't needed to – she could feel the heat coming off him before her hand touched his clammy skin.

"You're burning up," she informed Damon. "You are not fine."

"I am…"

"Damon, you're not," Elena said gently. "You're sick."

"It's just a cold," Damon stated automatically. He had said that phrase more times than he could count over the course of the day.

"It's the flu," Elena countered. She reached for a washcloth that lay abandoned on the countertop and turned on the sink. She dampened the cloth and then turned back to Damon. "Come here," she instructed, reaching for his hand and pulling him closer to her. Before he could protest, she started to wipe away the shaving cream.

"What are you doing?" Damon asked, halfheartedly trying to bat away her hands. "I need to shave."

"The only thing you need to do is put on something besides a towel and get into bed," Elena told him. The last of the shaving cream wiped away, she rinsed the cloth once more. "Come on," she said, gently taking Damon's hand again and pulling him out of the bathroom. He followed her in a daze, too sick and too surprised by her appearance to protest. She let go of him to rummage through his drawers, producing a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. "Change into these. I'm going to go downstairs and get you some water and something to eat."

"No, we have our date…"

"I think it's safe to say our date has been rescheduled," Elena told him patiently. "Change and lay down. I'll be right back. I'll bring you some hot tea too."

"But..."

His protests fell on deaf ears as Elena disappeared from his room. He stood for several moments, listening to her footsteps growing further away as she descended the stairs. Sighing, coughing, he decided to do as instructed and put on the pajamas Elena had taken out for him. It was more of a chore than it should have been, his body achy and weak. He had finally managed to pull his shirt on when Elena reappeared with a tray.

"In bed," she instructed.

"I'm sitting on the bed."

"Get into bed," Elena clarified. "Between the sheets."

"You're bossy," Damon grumbled, even as he slid between the covers. She perched on the side of the bed and situated his pillows so he was sitting upright. "How did you know I was sick?" he asked. He admitted to himself that it felt good to be off his feet.

"Stefan," Elena admitted. "He called me a couple of hours ago, said you were really sick and really stubborn. I would have been here sooner, but I had to run a couple of errands after my last talk at the high school and then I stopped by Jenna and Ric's to change. I suppose you stayed at work all day, despite the fever?"

"I powered through," Damon said. He covered his nose as he sneezed which was quickly followed by still more coughing. "Ugh," he groaned, resting his hand over his chest.

"Take this," Elena said, reached for a bottle of prescription medicine on the tray. "It should help with your fever."

"Where did that come from?" Damon asked as Elena measured out the dose listed on the label.

"Stefan called it in for you," she told him. "I picked it up on my way over." She passed Damon the little plastic measuring cup and he downed it in one shot, making a face as the medication burned down his throat in a way that wasn't nearly as satisfying as whiskey.

"He couldn't call in something that tasted better?" Damon asked.

"Seeing as you told him he wasn't a doctor this morning, I'd say it's pretty incredible he was able to call in anything," Elena teased. She reached for the tray and placed it over Damon's lap. "Chicken noodle soup – store bought, but the good can, not the condensed – hot tea with honey, and Gatorade. Eat and drink up."

"Aren't you're supposed to starve a fever and feed a cold?" Damon asked. None of the options set before him were appealing at the moment.

"You're supposed to do what I say," Elena countered. "You are in no shape to argue."

"Bossy," Damon muttered, even as he picked up his spoon. He managed a couple of bites before pushing the bowl away. Elena raised her eyebrow, so he reached for his tea to appease her, feeling a bit like a small child. He was surprised to find the tea really did sooth his throat.

"You really should try to eat some more," Elena advised.

"I'm really not hungry, Elena."

"Make me a deal?" she countered. Damon raised his eyebrow to show he was listening. "Drink all of that tea and I'll let the soup slide, at least this time."

"I think I can handle that," he agreed. Elena nodded and moved his tray aside, leaving the Gatorade bottle on his night stand. She resumed her perch on the edge of his bed, a watchful eye on Damon as he slowly sipped his tea. "I don't want you to get sick," he told her, realizing that he was likely highly contagious. He would probably have a number of people using sick days this week as well, thanks to his appearance at the office. Elena shook her head.

"I got a flu shot before I left on my book tour," she told him. "Meeting all those people during cold and flu season? I wasn't going to chance it." Damon sighed out of relief. He hadn't wanted to get her sick, but he hadn't exactly wanted her to leave either. He opened his mouth to speak, but another wave of coughing took over instead. Elena moved quickly, taking his hot tea out of his hands before he spilled it. When he regained himself, he settled back against the pillows, his eyes on Elena. She passed the tea back to him.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I had all these plans for tonight. I was going to pick you up at five minutes to six, just to be early. This isn't what I had planned at all."

"You'll just have to pick me up at five minutes to six on another night," Elena told him.

"But I let you down," he insisted. "I'm supposed to be proving that I deserve another chance. Not showing up for our first date doesn't exactly set me up well."

"I have every belief that had I not shown up here, you would have turned up on Jenna and Ric's doorstep to pick me up," Elena soothed. "Of course, I would have put you in the passenger's side of your car and driven you back here to do exactly what we're doing right now, so really, I saved you a trip."

"I was going to cook for you," Damon told her. "I was going to bring you here and make my mom's lobster ravioli. I kept trying to think of something more exciting, but I just wanted to spend time with you and I didn't want to spend that time in a busy, loud restaurant with a waiter interrupting us every few minutes to refill our water glasses or ask if we wanted more bread."

"Well, look at that," Elena said. She reached out and pushed a lock of Damon's hair off his forehead. "You're spending time with me."

"I'm dying," Damon said dramatically.

"No, you're not," Elena said with an amused shake of her head. "You're going to start feeling better in the next few days and you'll be as good as new by the weekend."

"Will you go out with me then?" Damon asked, sounding more like a little boy. "As soon as I'm better?"

"As soon as you're better," Elena confirmed. "I want to try that lobster ravioli." Damon chuckled, but his laugh quickly became a cough.

"This sucks," he grumbled.

"Can I get you anything?" Elena asked. "More tea? Maybe heat up your soup?"

"Just – sit with me?" Damon asked, almost tentatively.

"Of course," Elena said. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere." Damon smiled at her, even as his eyes started to droop. He was exhausted, had been since he woke up that morning. "Rest," Elena encouraged. "I'll be here when you wake up."

* * *

><p>When Damon's eyes fluttered open a couple hours later, he was momentarily confused as to what Elena was doing, sitting against his headboard, her head buried in a book. Then, remembering she promised to be there when he woke up, he smiled.<p>

"Hey," he croaked out. Elena looked up.

"Hey," she said, closing her book. "How are you feeling?" Damon had momentarily forgotten he was sick, but at Elena's comment, he felt like he had been hit by a truck.

"Horrible," he admitted. "Everything hurts."

"You can have another dose of medicine in an hour or so," Elena told him. She reached for something on the nightstand. "Here, sip on this." She handed him a tumbler with a straw. "It's Gatorade. I put it in a tumbler to keep it cold when I took your dishes downstairs."

"You've always been too good to me," Damon commented. He pushed himself into a sitting position which required more work than he thought was strictly necessary. He coughed several times before taking a long drink of Gatorade.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"I'm okay," Damon replied. He looked at her. "Thank you, for staying."

"Of course," Elena said with a shake of her head. "You're sick, Damon. I'm not going to leave you to fend for yourself." Damon didn't reply. He played with the edge of his blanket, thinking. Elena noticed and raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?" she asked gently. Slowly, Damon turned to her and gave her a small smile.

"I was just thinking how I haven't had anyone to take care of me when I was sick since my mom died," he admitted. "I know now that Dad would have if I would have let him, but it's too late for that. It's just… Nice to have someone here." He looked almost embarrassed by his admission.

"Oh, Damon," Elena said softly. She slid closer to him. "You have so many people who care about you. You just have to let us." He gave her a small smile.

"You care about me?" he asked. There was a hint of disbelief in his voice. Elena smiled sadly and nodded, wishing he could understand how much she did care about him, despite everything.

"So much," she told him sincerely. Then she sighed. She reached out and laced her fingers through his. "Damon, the night I left your apartment, I said something awful." Damon frowned.

"You did?" he asked. "I mean, the whole 'I'm leaving' thing sucked…"

"I said your love wasn't enough," Elena reminded him softly. She watched as Damon's face fell and she knew he was remembering her parting words. "Damon, I'm so sorry," she rushed on. "I was upset and I said things I didn't mean. I know that hurt you…"

"It did," Damon interrupted. "But Elena, you meant it." Elena shook her head.

"No…"

"You did," Damon interrupted again, squeezing her hand. "I know you loved me, Elena. I never doubted that. You put up with so much for so long. Like you said, love was never our problem. It was – logistics."

"Logistics?" Elena asked, a corner of her lips tugging upward.

"Logistics," Damon confirmed. Another coughing fit overtook him. Elena reached for it the bottle of Gatorade and handed it to him once he regained use of his lungs. He took several long swigs from it. "This is horrible," he said.

"I know," Elena soothed, taking the bottle back and placing it on the nightstand. "You'll be better soon though."

"Not soon enough," he said, rubbing a hand across his chest. "But like I was saying, logistics. We had the love. I just had to learn a few lessons the hard way."

"We're both pretty stubborn," Elena mentioned. Damon nodded in agreement.

"I'm going to earn you back, Elena," he said. "Blame the stubbornness, if you must." Elena chuckled.

"You're a lot closer to earning me back than you think," she told him. Damon smiled.

"I'm still pulling out all the stops," he informed her. Elena laughed lightly.

"How's that fever?" she asked. She reached out and placed her hand on Damon's forehead. "You're still burning up." She poured him another dose of medicine. "Take this." Damon did so without complaint, but still sputtered.

"How much more of that do I have to take?" he asked, leaning back against his pillows.

"All of it," Elena informed him. He made a face in response. "Now, rest. You need to get better so you can make me that lobster ravioli." Damon smiled and nodded.

"I do," he agreed. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and saw it was just after eight. "Can I keep you here long enough to watch a movie with me?" he asked.

"Well…," Elena ventured, "I wasn't actually planning on leaving you alone tonight." Damon's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're sick," she reminded him. "Stefan isn't here and I don't want to leave you alone. Nothing more than what we're doing right now is going to happen between us, at least not tonight. But, I'm going to stay here and take care of you."

"You don't have to…"

"Damon, it's not up for discussion," Elena informed him. Damon paused for a moment and then nodded his agreement.

"Let's watch that movie then," he said. He tossed his blankets back and swung his legs out of bed, not quite able to disguise the groan as he did so.

"Where are you going?" Elena asked. "Get back in bed."

"We're watching a movie," Damon said again. "TV is downstairs. Although, I'm questioning my no TV in the bedroom policy right now."

"You need to be in bed…"

"I can lie on the couch," Damon countered. He used the bed to steady himself as he walked. "Come on. You can pick what we watch."

"You really are stubborn," Elena said with a sigh. She stood and followed him towards the door. In the hallway, she slipped an arm around him. He leaned on her, uttering out a "thank you" for her support. Slowly, they made their way down to the media room. Elena helped Damon settle on the sofa and then selected a movie from the massive DVD collection. She took a throw from the back of a nearby armchair before returning to Damon. She draped it over him and then joined him on the sofa.

"What are we watching?" Damon asked. Elena beamed.

"_Fight Club." _He chuckled which again turned into a cough. Elena picked up the remote and hit play.

For a while, they watched the movie in silence, sitting close, but not touching. But as the movie wore on, Damon started to drift off to sleep, too weak from the flu to stay awake for the whole movie.

"Here," Elena said, shifting on the couch. "Lay down."

"I'm 'kay," Damon slurred in his tired state.

"No, you're not," Elena said. "Which we've already established. Lay down, okay?" Sighing, Damon gave in. He allowed Elena to help him get comfortable and, to his satisfaction, she placed his head in her lap. "Relax," she said, running her hands through his hair. His fever burned at her fingertips, but she was sure it wasn't quite as high as it had been.

"Thank you for being here," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly as her fingertips continued their path through his hair.

"Of course," Elena said quietly. "I wouldn't be anywhere else."

More time passed. Damon dosed, Elena's fingers continuing to work through his hair. It was comforting, having her there with him. When he woke up an hour or so later, he looked at Elena for several moments before breaking into a soft smile.

"'Lena?"

"Hmm?" Elena asked, turning her attention away from the television.

"I'm going to say something," he said. "And I'm going to blame my fever and delirium because we're supposed to be taking it slow and I'm supposed to be earning you back. But I have to say it, so I'm going to say it, and just remember, I have a fever."

"Okay…," Elena said slowly, thinking delirium wasn't far off, given Damon's rambling speech. Damon smiled a bit.

"I love you," he said. "I really, really love you." Elena chuckled and ran her hand through Damon's hair once more.

"I love you too," she told him. "I never stopped." She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Damon's forehead. "You still have a pretty high fever."

"I still feel pretty awful," he admitted.

"Just relax," Elena advised. "We're going to have you feeling better in no time."

"No thanks to that crap Stefan called in for me." Elena rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the TV. She had stopped running her hand through his hair, but he had tangled his fingers with hers and let their clasped hands rest on his chest.

"Have you really not read my sequel?" Elena asked after a while.

"I told you," Damon said, "I'm waiting on a signed copy."

* * *

><p><strong>Poor Damon. I've had the flu as bad as I've given it to him (hence the inspiration), and it really was awful. He really wasn't going to let it stop him either. Elena was his priority.<br>**

**A bit of the smartass Damon is returning as well. He won't go back to as awful as he was, but some of you had mentioned that you missed his sarcasm from early chapters. Me too, friends. He was all work and no play there for a while, but now that he's finding his footing again, some of that wit is coming back. **

**Maybe he'll get that signed copy of Elena's book soon... **

**I'm going to spend approximately 12 hours traveling tomorrow, so I'd love to read what you think of this update on layovers!**


	35. Kitchen

**Confession? The slight delay in posting an update is because I've been writing away on my new fic! It hasn't been posted yet - follow me for an alert when it is! - but it's moving right along. :)**

**Thank you all so very much for all of the love you have shown this story. I have loved writing it and I am so proud of it. I never would have dreamed it would have over a 100,000 views and more than 900 reviews. What is life?! We're down to just a few updates left, but seriously - you all are the very best. **

**Things I Don't Own: Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Damon idly turned the pages of the morning paper, reading about the mundane happenings of Charlottesville and the surrounding communities as he sipped his coffee. He had fallen into a routine in the mornings, waking up early, but not before the sun as he would when he lived in New York, and settling at the kitchen island with the newspaper and a mug of coffee. He liked the slow starts, the lack of run on to-do lists or pressing emails giving him time to actually start his day.<p>

It wasn't that he didn't have anything to do. Even with his reduced client load and a full staff of eager employees at the mill, he had a substantial to-do list on a day-to-day basis. But it wasn't do or die. He had help. Like his father had said in his letter, he just had to ask for it. He had found balance, rediscovered a part of his life he had long ago abandoned. It was a relief.

He chuckled to himself as he read a letter to the editor listing all the reasons why Virginia should no longer sell wine in grocery stores. "Good luck with that," he muttered, fully aware that the wine industry in Virginia was booming. He reached for his coffee mug, just as he heard the sound of Stefan coming down the stairs. Several moments later, his bedraggled younger brother appeared. "Morning, sunshine," he greeted. Stefan raised an eyebrow.

"What? No witty remark about how I don't live here this morning?" he asked. He went straight for the coffee maker.

"It's a big house," Damon mused. "I get bored. Your occasional presence keeps me from getting a cat. And I hate cats." Stefan grinned.

"You like me," he stated.

"It wasn't an invitation to move in," Damon replied. "I'm just saying having you around from time to time gives me something better to do than shoot water guns at a feline."

"You would actually do that, wouldn't you?" Stefan asked as he sat down across from Damon. He reached for a section of Damon's paper.

"Like I said, I hate cats. Incidentally, what are you doing out here? Should I expect Bex to meander down the stairwell any moment now?"

"Bex had a dinner with donors to the college last night, so she stayed in town," Stefan answered. "She's working half a day and then coming out this way. We're actually going to look at some houses." Damon raised an eyebrow.

"Buying a house," he repeated. "You really are getting married."

"Yep," Stefan confirmed. "We really are."

"I'm assuming you're looking in Mystic Falls?"

"And the surrounding area," Stefan replied. "I was kind of surprised when Rebekah showed me the houses she likes. They are all out here. I figured she would want to live closer to Charlottesville, but she said she likes the peace and quiet here."

"I agree with her," Damon said. Stefan studied Damon for a few moments as Damon perused the sports section.

"You seem like you're settling in," he finally said. He had been looking for an opportunity to talk to Damon about how things were going in Mystic Falls and now seemed as good as any.

"I'm still adjusting," Damon admitted. "But I made the right call. This is where I need to be. More importantly, it's where I want to be." His phone chimed then. He glanced at it and smiled when he saw a text from Elena, confirming their lunch date.

"Elena?" Stefan guessed. He knew the pair had been spending time together, but he didn't know where they stood. Rebekah kept him as up to date as she could, but even she didn't know much past the fact that Damon and Elena had been out a few times and were taking things slow.

"I'm meeting her for lunch," Damon said. "She was just confirming."

"How are things between the two of you?" Stefan asked, keeping his voice as neutral as he could to mask just how curious he was. He was rooting for the two of them to reunite and had taken it as a good sign that Elena hadn't hesitated to play nurse while Damon was sick a couple weeks earlier. Given that he knew Damon had taken her on a few dates since then, he assumed it had gone okay.

"Things are okay," Damon said. He spun the coffee mug between his hands. "I wouldn't say things are perfect, by any means. I did a lot of damage to our relationship. She's giving me a chance, and that's all I can really ask for right now."

"Elena is forgiving," Stefan told him. "And you clearly love her. Just keep doing what you're doing. She'll come around." Damon nodded.

"I have to tell her I have to go to New York next week," he said. There was a hint of anxiety in his voice. Things were going well between them and he hated to leave. He had been upfront with her, letting her know from the night they had talked about things are her place that he would have to travel occasionally, but it still caused him to be uneasy as he considered telling Elena there was going to be some distance between them, if only for a few days.

"She knows that's part of the deal, right? That you have to make the occasional trip back to New York or go somewhere with a client from time to time?" Damon nodded again.

"She does," he agreed. "It's just… Things are going well, you know? I don't want me leaving, even if it's just for a few days, to screw it up."

"Look at it as the perfect chance to prove to her how serious you are about your relationship," Stefan advised. "You're going to be traveling about once a month, right?" Damon nodded in agreement. "Okay, then. Use this trip to show her that even though you're away on business, she's still a priority."

"That's an excellent plan," Damon agreed. "So excellent, that I was already planning to do just that. It's just – I don't know how she's going to take it."

"You act like you're about to tell her you have an illegitimate child," Stefan stated. He looked at Damon. "You don't have an illegitimate child, do you?"

"No!" Damon said with a scoff and roll of his eyes. He played with the edge of the section of paper in his hand. "It's just – I got a second chance with her, you know? I have no room for error." Stefan nodded in understanding.

"Like I said, just keep doing what you're doing," he advised. "Elena loves you too, you know." Damon smiled more to himself than Stefan. They haven't exchanged 'I love yous' since he was down with the flu, but he remembered Elena's assurance that she loved him, her sweet kiss on his forehead. He had been holding on to that, eager to hear her say it again, this time without fevers and cold chills.

"I know she does," he told Stefan. "Love was never our problem." He stood then and poured himself another cup of coffee. When he sat back down, Stefan cleared his throat. Damon raised an eyebrow.

"So, Rebekah and I have set a date," Stefan said. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Damon prompted. He knew there was something more coming.

"We know it's going to be in October," Stefan clarified. "The date depends on what the venue has available."

"Where's the venue?" Damon asked. Stefan shrugged.

"Some vineyard," he said. Damon snorted into his coffee mug.

"Glad to see you're so involved in the wedding planning."

"If you'll shut up for a second, you'll see I'm trying to do my part," Stefan retorted. Damon made a motion with his hand that said 'hurry up.' "To think I was happy you moved back," he said under her breath. Damon smirked.

"You like me," he said, repeating Stefan's line from earlier. Stefan sighed.

"Therein lies the problem," he said. "I like you. So I was going to ask you – would you be my best man?"

Silence fell over the kitchen as Damon looked at his brother, stunned.

"You, want me, to be your best man?" he finally said slowly, making sure he had heard Stefan correctly. Stefan nodded.

"I do," he said. "I've been thinking about it and while I've got some good friends, you're my brother. I know we've had our ups and downs, but, well, I couldn't imagine anyone else standing next to me on my wedding day." Damon continued to look at him in disbelief.

"Really?" he asked. "Me? As your best man? I've been an ass to you my entire life."

"True," Stefan nodded. "But it would mean a lot to me. I know we've been joking about liking each other but, Damon, the thing is, I do like you. I like having you around." He averted his eyes for a moment. "It wasn't just Elena that missed you." Damon felt his throat constrict. He had missed his brother too.

"I would be honored to be your best man," he said, his voice gravely. "You're my little brother. And, you know, I like you too." Stefan chuckled.

"It's like we're in third grade, asking someone to check yes or no," he said. Damon chuckled too.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It is."

"So – you'll be my best man?" Damon nodded.

"I wouldn't allow anyone else the privilege," he said. He extended his hand to Stefan. "Little brother." Stefan smiled and shook Damon's hand.

"Big brother."

* * *

><p>"She's out of control," Elena concluded. Damon laughed heartily, both at Elena's story about how 'bridezila' Caroline had become with her wedding less than a month away and how dramatically Elena had told it.<p>

"Just a few more weeks, right?" Damon asked. Elena nodded.

"I can make it," she said. "At least, that's what I keep telling myself." Damon laughed again. He picked at the fries on his plate, enjoying the break from his workday for lunch at small diner halfway between the mill and Elena's place at the lake.

"You know, Stefan actually asked me to be his best man," he ventured. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"He did?" she asked. "Damon, that's great."

"I was surprised," Damon admitted. "But I'm also honored."

"It will mean everything to him to have you next to him on his big day," Elena said. "He really loves having you back here." Damon smiled at her.

"Turns out, I love being back here," he said. He reached across the table and took her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers.

"I guess I could count myself in the group of people that's glad you're back," Elena told him. Damon's smile grew wider.

"You, Stefan… People really seem to like me today." Elena laughed.

"Don't let it go to your head," she told him. Damon bit back a witty comment and squeezed Elena's hand gently. He had to break his travel news to her.

"So, I have to tell you something," he started. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"I'm listening."

"Next week, I have to fly up to New York for some meetings." He stopped and waited for Elena to react. She looked at him for several moments.

"And?" she finally asked, prompting Damon to finish what she thought was going to be a longer sentence.

"And I have to fly back to New York," Damon repeated. "It's just for a few days. I leave Monday morning and I'll be back Thursday afternoon. It's just a quick trip to visit the agency and have a few meetings, that's all."

"Why are you rationalizing your trip back to New York?" Elena asked after another beat of silence.

"Rationalizing?" Damon repeated. Elena nodded.

"It's like you're trying to convince yourself that going to New York is okay." Damon sighed.

"It's more like I'm trying to convince you it's okay," he admitted.

"Why would you have to convince me?" Elena continued with her line of questioning. Damon looked almost bashful. He gave her hand another squeeze.

"I don't want things to fall apart," he confessed. "I know things aren't perfect between us, but we've made some progress, at least I think we have, and I don't want to lose that." Elena surprised him by offering a soft smile.

"We have made progress," she told him. She returned the squeeze of his hand with one of her own. "You have made a lot of sacrifices to be here, in Mystic Falls…"

"I don't know that I would call them sacrifices," Damon interrupted. "I did what I needed to do to be happy. I wouldn't call swapping sleepless nights and neglecting the people who matter most to me for a much more relaxed day-to-day life with the people I love a sacrifice." Elena's smile grew bigger.

"I'm glad you're happy here," she told him. "Like I was saying, you made a lot of sacrifices to come back to Mystic Falls. I know you have to go back to New York sometimes to keep things running smoothly at your agency. I know you'll have to travel once in a while with a client too. But you seem determined to make this work…"

"I am," Damon interrupted again. "I am completely and entirely determined for us to work out this time. There isn't another option."

"Then you see why I'm not so concerned about you going to New York," Elena teased. Damon allowed himself to smile.

"I'm going to call and text you so much it will seem like I'm in the room with you instead of states away."

"I guess we'll see about that," Elena said. She kept the smile on her face, but Damon could hear the skepticism in her voice. He nodded.

"We will," he confirmed. He raised her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. Her challenge was accepted.

* * *

><p>"Hello?"<p>

"You tired of me yet?" Damon asked as soon as Elena's voice came through his phone. Her laugh made him smile on his end of the phone.

"Not quite," she said. "How was your meeting?"

"Boring," Damon stated. He hailed a cab and quickly gave the name of a hotel as he slid in. "He brought a signed contract to the table. I didn't have to convince him to agree to anything. Harper got himself a deal with Calvin Klein and I barely lifted a finger. Well, that's not true. I sat through a two hour dinner listening to this guy go on and on about his wife's juice cleanse and his own personal dedication to someday join a gym and lose twenty pounds so he can get back to what he calls his fighting weight."

"Sounds like a real charmer," Elena mused.

"Entirely," Damon agreed. "How was the rest of your day?" He had made good on his promise that he would call and text her while he was gone. He had sent a good morning text and then texted back and forth with her throughout the morning before he called her around lunchtime, just to chat. It had been several hours since their conversation though and she had texted him as his dinner meeting had wound down, so he had chosen to call in response.

"Peaceful," Elena answered. "It was beautiful here today, so I sat out on my porch and wrote for a while, then I read a bit. It was incredible exciting."

"Sounds perfect to me," Damon said. "Speaking of perfect, what are the odds I can see you on Thursday evening?"

"Odds are not in your favor," Elena told him. He wasn't sure if it was wishful thinking, but he thought he could hear a note of regret in her voice. "All of us bridesmaids get the honor of helping Caroline put together her wedding favors Thursday night. Although, she is providing dinner and wine, so I guess that's something."

"Friday, then?"

"Only if you want to hang out with Ella, too," Elena said. There was definite regret in her voice this time. "I'm babysitting again, although this time, they're bringing her out to the lake since it's on the way to some mountain resort Ric is taking Jenna to – a baby moon or something. All I know is Jeremy and Bonnie have kept her the last two times, so I'm up."

"I wouldn't hate hanging out with my two favorite girls," Damon ventured. The taxi slammed to a stop to avoid ramming into a car in front of it. He threw his hand out to brace himself, letting out a curse. He wondered in that moment, just as he had several other moments during the two days he had been in New York, how he had stood living there for so long.

"We're going to make homemade pizza and watch _Sleeping Beauty," _Elena told him. "And bake cookies. Ella has it all planned out."

"I make an excellent homemade pizza and I love _Sleeping Beauty," _Damon said. "The part where they take off on the magic carpet is my favorite." Elena laughed in earnest then.

"Wrong movie," she told Damon. "The magic carpet is _Aladdin. Sleeping Beauty _has the evil fairy and Prince Phillip."

"Sounds riveting," Damon said seriously. "I can't wait." Elena laughed again.

"Then it's a date."

"It's a date," he confirmed. "Assuming you survive Caroline."

"That goes two ways, you know. Caroline has to survive us, too, and we're ready to pounce."

"Aren't maids of honor supposed to be supportive and compassionate?" Damon teased.

"I'm just hoping Rebekah remembers what a pain in the ass Caroline is while she's planning her wedding," Elena stated. "Seeing as I'm her maid of honor too." Damon grinned on his end of the phone. He had been pleasantly surprised to find out Rebekah had asked Elena to be her maid of honor shortly after Stefan had asked him to be his best man. He had known Rebekah was close to Elena, but he hadn't realized Rebekah didn't have many close friends before moving to Charlottesville and being introduced to Stefan's friends.

"After being Caroline's maid of honor, standing by Rebekah should be a breeze."

"Here's to hoping," Elena mused. Damon laughed again and absentmindedly rubbed his thumb across the fourth finger of his left hand. If things went according to his plan, the next wedding Elena would be in after Rebekah and Stefan's would be her own. "Any big plans for the rest of your night?"

"I'm meeting Rose for a drink before I turn in," Damon answered. "Fortunately, Trevor is out of town with a client."

"Tell her I said hello," Elena said with a smile.

"I will," Damon agreed. He could see his hotel a couple blocks ahead. "I'm almost at my hotel. I'll text you later, okay?"

"Okay," Elena agreed. "And Damon? Thanks for calling."

"I'll bring you the moon if you ask for it," Damon replied.

"In that case…" Damon laughed and dug out his wallet to pay his fare. They exchanged goodbyes as he entered the hotel's lobby. He made his way to the bar and spied Rose almost immediately as she sent a suitor away resembling a wounded puppy. "Excuse me, miss, but can I buy you a drink?" Rose turned towards him.

"Sit your ass down and explain to me why you have gone entirely crazy," she demanded. Damon laughed and took up the empty seat next to her. He made to motion for a drink, but she slid a glass of bourbon in front of him. "I already ordered. You need to catch me up on your life choices."

"Long story short, I came to my senses and moved back to Mystic Fall. And if all stays on course, I'll have my girl back sooner rather than later." Damon took a long drink of his bourbon and waited for Rose's reaction.

"You've got to give me more than that," she stated. "I still haven't worked out if Trevor is thrilled you're out of the way or devastated he doesn't have you to compete with."

"I'm not out of the way and he still has me to compete with," Damon scoffed. "In fact, he not only has me full on in the middle of his way, he's got my entire staff to worry about. He's a one man shop. I've got people."

"Now that sounds like the Damon I know and love," Rose said. "Seriously though, catch me up. I assume you moved back to Mystic Falls for Elena?"

"In part," Damon confirmed. "The rest, it's a long story. Let's just say I wasted a lot of years resenting the people who only wanted the best of me. And I've wasted a lot of time living a life I wasn't entirely happy with. So, I took some advice I received recently and went after what makes me happy. And as much to my surprise as yours, that's my childhood home in my small hometown where my brother and the love of my life live."

"I'm just surprised," Rose said with a shake of her head. Damon knew she wasn't being malicious or trying to get him to see what he was missing in New York. She was simply stating what he had felt when he had first realized what he needed to do. "You were the talk of the town after the news broke that you had taken a step back at your agency and moved back to Virginia. You were living the life here and then you just dropped it."

"I didn't just drop it," Damon mused. "I'd been over it for a while. I mean, don't you ever get exhausted, going out every night, schmoozing clients, brokering deals? Don't you ever just want to leave it all behind and do – anything else?"

"All the time," Rose said. "Which is why we're going to Cabo next month and spent the holidays in Aspen. When we get sick and tired of the city or our jobs, we leave it."

"You don't have to understand," Damon said with a shake of his head. "This is what's best for me. Mystic Falls, running the mill, cutting back on my work with my agency, it's working for me. I've slept more since moving back to Mystic Falls then I have in the last year combined."

"You do look rested," Rose agreed. "I'm giving you a hard time, but you were running yourself ragged there for a while." Damon nodded.

"I would have ended up six feet under if I had kept it up."

"If you're happy, I'm happy," Rose said. "But, more importantly than this whole moving to Mystic Falls thing, give me the scoop on you and Elena. Have you convinced her to take your sorry ass back yet?" Damon chuckled.

"I'm working on it," he said. "We've talked about things and we've been spending a lot of time together. We're taking it slow. She's learning to trust me, I'm figuring out this whole living in Mystic Falls thing. Trying to not run my family's sawmill into the ground. A lot is changing, but we're figuring it out."

"I'm rooting for the two of you," she said. "Elena is great. And she makes you happy."

"She's amazing," Damon confirmed. "And with a little bit of luck, she'll be mine again."

Rose's clinked her glass with Damon's in response.

* * *

><p><strong>So, life is finding some normalcy. Damon is settling in nicely, he and Elena are moving forward, he and Stefan are building a relationship. For those of you asking for some DamonElla interaction, just you wait until the next update. Even I was swooning. **

**Please let me know what you think! **


	36. Aurora

**I apologize for the delay in posting! I've been rather busy, traveling and accepting new jobs. :) But those of you who love Damon interacting with Ella should love this update. Confession? My roommate and I are total Disney movie geeks - we watch them on the regular and we're both well into our twenties. **

**Thank you all so much for your reviews and support. I read every single review and PM and appreciate all of them to pieces. Thank you so much for making this such an amazing experience! We have one more update and an epilogue left after this one. Is this really it?! **

**Things I Don't Own: Vampire Diaries**

* * *

><p>"So wait, this fairy is pissed off because she didn't get invited to a party?" Damon asked.<p>

"Damon!" Elena hissed. Damon tried to look guilty for his slip of tongue, but he couldn't help but smirk at Elena's stern expression.

"She's not a fairy," Ella piped up. "She's the Mistress of All Evil."

"And the best she could do was come up with a pricking a finger on a spindle?" Damon asked. Elena snorted back a laugh. "I have a point, here."

"Just watch the movie," Elena told him, amused. "It's actually really good." Damon raised a skeptical eyebrow, but settled back against the cushions of Elena's couch. Ella, already in her pajamas after their dinner of homemade pizza, had tucked herself comfortably between them, her legs thrown over Damon's lap while her head rested against Elena. It wasn't the most exciting Friday night, but Damon couldn't think of anywhere else he would rather be.

The movie unfolded with the good fairies sneaking Aurora into the woods. He wasn't buying what Elena had said about it being a really good movie, but he was content to just be with her. He reached out and casually draped his arm across her shoulders. She looked over and smiled at him, letting him know his gesture was approved. He reciprocated by pulling her, and by proxy, Ella, just a little closer. On the screen, Prince Phillip had just met Princess Aurora in the woods.

"Imagine that," Damon mused. "A prince and a princess are the only people around for miles and miles and they manage to meet right smack in the middle of the woods with the help of some woodland creatures."

"You have no imagination," Elena told him.

"I'm just pointing out the obvious," Damon said. "No one else is around for miles while Rose Bush or whatever they're calling her is singing in the woods while she's picking berries and ta da, there's a prince." Elena rolled her eyes but smiled. "And not only do these two strangers meet in the woods, they happen to have been engaged since birth. Really, what are the odds?"

"Shh!" Ella hissed, holding her finger up to her lips and glaring at Damon. Elena snorted back another laugh.

"Sorry," Damon apologized to Ella, ticking her toes a bit. She giggled and squirmed before turning her attention back to the movie.

Despite Ella's hushing, Damon kept his commentary up where it was warranted, Elena scolding him but with a twinkle in her eye. When the movie was finished, Damon shook his head. "Who knew an arranged marriage could be so romantic?" Elena let out an actual laugh then which made him chuckle.

"Day-mun?" came Ella's voice. She was fighting sleep by now, doing her best to stay up with her aunt and Damon as long as she could.

"Yeah, munchkin?"

"Did you meet Aunt Laney in the woods?" she asked. Damon raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked, not sure he heard her correctly.

"Did Damon meet me in the woods?" Elena repeated. Ella sat up from where she had been laying across their laps and looked at them both very seriously.

"Did you?" she asked Damon. "Did you meet Aunt Laney in the woods like Princess Aurora met Prince Phillip?"

"Not quite," Elena said with a shake of her head. "Although he did go running through the woods with me a few times."

"Yeah, because your aunt likes to run through the woods all by herself which is a really bad idea. Don't ever do that, okay, Ella?" Damon asked with a raised eyebrow in Elena's direction. Elena rolled her eyes.

"Okay," Ella agreed with a serious nod. "But if you not meet Aunt Laney in the woods, where did you meet her?" Damon smiled at Ella's innocence. He supposed in her three year old world, girls did meet their prince charmings in the middle of a heavily wooded area, if he remembered his Disney movies correctly. He was pretty sure that's how Snow White went down anyway.

"I met your Aunt Laney at a crowded party," he told Ella. His arm still around Elena, he pulled her even closer. "She was the most beautiful woman in the room."

"Yeah?" Ella asked. She leaned forward, ready to hear a real life love story.

"Absolutely," Damon confirmed. Next to him, Elena was smiling brightly, almost as eager as Ella to hear where Damon was going to go with this. He certainly wasn't going to tell her that they had met at his father's funeral and he had propositioned her to go into the coat closet with him.

"Aunt Laney, did you think Day-mun was handsome?" Ella asked innocently, turning her attention to Elena. Elena smiled at her niece and nodded.

"I did," she confirmed. "Handsome, but a bit rough around the edges."

"What's that mean?" Ella continued.

"It means Aunt Laney turned me down for a date," Damon told Ella. Elena chuckled next to him. "I came up to her, told her she was beautiful, invited her to spend time with me, and she turned me down. Can you believe that, Ella? Your aunt wasn't going to go out with me." Elena rolled her eyes again while Ella shook her head no.

"Aunt Laney, you should have gone on a date with Day-mun," she said with a very stern tone.

"That's my girl," Damon told Ella with an approving nod.

"Hey!" Elena exclaimed. "I did go out with Damon. If I hadn't, he wouldn't be sitting here right now, would he Ella?"

"Well, no," Ella mused. "But how did you go on a date with Day-mun if you said no?"

"He chased me," Elena answered. She reached for Ella and pulled her firmly into her lap. "You know how I like to go work at the coffee shop?" Ella nodded. "Well, I was sitting there working one day when this tall shadow fell over my table. It was Damon. He sat down with me for a while and then he left."

"She kicked me out," Damon supplied.

"I did not!"

"You did," Damon argued. "You were on a deadline, remember?"

"You got a phone call and left to argue with someone over a contract, remember?" Elena shot back.

"I landed that contract," Damon told her. "It was sports drink deal for Harper."

"Then what happened?" Ella piped up, interrupting their good-natured squabbling.

"I walked Aunt Laney home from The Grill," Damon answered. He reached out and tickled Ella's side, making her laugh. "She was going to walk home alone at night, and pretty girls should never walk home, or anywhere else, alone at night. Remember that too, okay?" Ella nodded in agreement, hanging on to his every word. "I walked Aunt Laney home and figured out she was not only beautiful, but smart and kind too. So, I asked her to dinner and she said yes."

"You did?" Ella asked, turning to Elena.

"I did," Elena confirmed. "Damon talked about books with me while he walked home and I decided I wanted to talk to him even more, so when he asked me to have dinner with him, I said yes."

"And the rest is history," Damon added. "Even though I make it hard sometimes, your Aunt Laney is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Aww!" Ella squealed, her hands clapping together. Elena snuggled Ella to her, but she was looking at Damon with a soft smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Even though Damon thinks he makes it hard sometimes, he's worth it," she told Ella. "He likes to pretend to be the bad guy, but he's not. And truth is, I don't always make things so easy either." Damon returned her smile, but didn't trust himself to speak. Elena gave him a nod to let her know she understood.

"Can we watch _Cinderella _now?" Ella asked. Elena shook her head.

"Not tonight," she said. "It's time for bed. But you can watch it in the morning, okay?" Just like she thought would happen, a temper tantrum ensued. Damon let Elena handle the screaming toddler after telling her goodnight. He busied himself with cleaning up the kitchen from their dinner, listening to the sounds of a disgruntled Ella and an ever patient Elena floating from down the hallway, gradually growing quieter until he no longer could hear them. He had just put the last dish in the dishwasher when Elena reappeared. "That child is incredibly stubborn."

"Wonder where she gets that from?" Damon mused without missing a bit. Elena punched his arm playfully.

"You didn't have to clean up," she told him. "But thank you for doing it." She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, making him grin. She was slowly starting to become more openly affectionate and he was rather enjoying it, taking it as a good sign as to how things were progressing between them.

"You're just glad you didn't have to clean up that mess," he teased, making her laugh.

"Do you have to go?" she asked. "Or can you stick around for a bit?"

"Well, I'm learning about these new things called weekends," Damon replied, leaning casually against her counter. "It's a really strange concept, but apparently, there are these two days every week where people don't necessarily have to work, myself included. So, yes, I can stick around. If you want me to, of course."

"I've heard about these weekend things," Elena replied seriously. "The way I understand it, once you leave work on Fridays, the weekend has officially started. And seeing as its Friday, I'd say that means your weekend has begun. Which means you are free to stick around. If you want to."

"And I would say sticking around would be a great start to my weekend," he confirmed. Elena smiled.

"It's beautiful out," she told him. "I mean, it's dark and overcast, but it's not too chilly and we are on a lake. Want to sit out on the porch for a bit?"

"Sure," Damon agreed. "But what about Ella?"

"What about her?" Elena countered.

"What if she wakes up? We'll be outside." Elena produced a baby monitor Damon hadn't noticed before.

"I learned my lesson the first time she stayed here," she told him. "She woke up in the middle of the night, slipped out of my bed, and had a field day in my pantry, eating all the junk food." Damon laughed.

"In that case, I'll lead the way." Elena gave him a nod and followed him through the house and out onto her front porch. Damon took a seat on the old wooden swing and while he expected Elena to sit beside him, he was surprised when she curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He was trying to take things slow, not overstep whatever boundaries Elena had in place, but he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

"How was New York?" she asked. He could hear the note of curiosity in her voice.

"It was New York," he answered. "It was big and loud and busy. I missed my bed."

"Your bed?"

"My bed," Damon confirmed. "My bed, my house," he jostled Elena gently, "my girl."

"Your girl?" Elena repeated, feigning innocence. "Who's she?"

"You," Damon answered. "I may not be your guy at the moment, but you're my girl. You have been since the night I took you to Maya for our first date."

"You are my guy," Elena told him softly but with conviction. "I know we hit a rough patch, but you're still my guy." Damon hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head.

"It's good to hear you say that," he admitted. Elena picked up his hand and started playing with his fingers. He waited, knowing she was thinking over what she wanted to say.

"Damon?"

"Hmm?"

"How are things going?" Damon raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"How are things going?" she repeated. "With Mystic Falls, the mill? Your life has done a total one eighty in the last couple of months. How are you doing?" Damon smiled to himself as he considered her question. She had always worried about him, tried to take care of him. Even after everything, she was still fretting over his well-being.

"It's been a whirlwind," he told her, opting for the full truth. "A lot of things changed really fast. But I made the right call. Coming back here, stepping back at the agency, taking on the mill, it's been good. I get to sleep, Elena. When I wake up in the mornings, there isn't a sense of urgency to check things off my to-do list. I can sit around in my kitchen, drinking coffee and reading the paper before I have to go to the office. I can take real, honest to goodness lunch breaks and I'm home in time for the evening news.

"But more than that, I have a foundation. I have you, Stefan. I'm even starting to count Rebekah as family. Just don't tell her I said that." Elena chuckled lightly. "It's weird for me, coming home to a house, knowing that I have people I can turn to, rely on. I haven't had that in so long. That's taking some getting used to. But it's good. It's really good."

"So you're happy here?" Elena asked. "I mean, so far?" Damon frowned.

"What are you trying to ask me?" he countered, realizing there was a question Elena wanted the answer to, but she wasn't willing to come out and ask it.

"Nothing," Elena said quickly. "I was just…"

"Elena." She sighed.

"It's silly," she said with a shake of her head. "Just… Never mind, okay? It's nothing."

"It's obviously something," Damon said patiently. "Whatever it is, just spit it out." Elena busied herself with spinning the monogrammed ring she always wore on her right ring finger around and around.

"It really is silly, Damon."

"Doesn't matter," he told her. "We have to talk, remember? That's the only way we're going to make this work. So whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours, say it. Silly or not, we'll take it from there." Elena sighed.

"Fine," she relented. "I'm going to sound like an insecure school girl."

"You might," Damon agreed. "You might not. I'll be the judge of that. And if you do sound insecure, I'll do what I can to take those insecurities away." Elena's lips turned upward in the slightest of smiles.

"When you told me you were going to New York, it wasn't the fact that there was going to be distance between us that bothered me," she started. "It was more the idea that you'll go back there one of these days and realize what you gave up. I know better than anyone that Mystic Falls isn't New York. And then there's the fact that you gave up a job you love to live here and run a saw mill. You made all these changes and I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that I'm thrilled you're here, but I can't help but worry that you'll wake up one day and realize you made a huge mistake."

Damon didn't respond right away. He took his time, turning Elena's words over in his mind. Her fear was valid. Mystic Falls and New York weren't remotely similar. There were likely a thousand things he could do or get in New York that weren't a possibility in Mystic Falls. But Mystic Falls also held a number of priceless things to Damon. He couldn't guarantee anything, but he could reassure Elena that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"The taxi drivers in New York City are awful," he said. "Once you manage to flag a driver down, of course. They slam on their brakes, weave in and out of traffic like it's a real life game of Mario Kart. They make you lose your religion. Getting pizza delivered to my hotel was nice, but I paid a small mint for it. And the Starbucks I went to? Not a chance in hell they would know I have a usual like the baristas at Coffee on Main do.

"And then there's the fact that my little brother shows up at my place whenever he feels like it. He just lets himself in, doesn't knock, doesn't even call first. He has this posh little apartment in Charlottesville, so close to the hospital he can walk there, but at least once a week, I wake up and find him in my kitchen, eating my food and drinking my coffee and his soon-to-be wife is usually there too. I pretend like I mind, but I actually kind of like having him around. Don't tell him I said that, either." Elena let out another soft laugh.

"And, of course, there's this woman I'm crazy about. She's beautiful, smart, funny. She has the kindest heart and she would do anything for her family and friends. She also happens to be one hell of a nurse. I recovered from the flu nicely under her care. She's not all that great of a cook though."

"Hey!" Elena protested, elbowing Damon. He laughed.

"She served me soup out of a can," he said. "The good kind though, not the condensed kind." Elena rolled her eyes once more. "I'm a lot to put up with, but she manages it with grace. She's pretty amazing. And she lives here, in Mystic Falls, same place as my brother. It's this small town in the Virginia mountains that's actually really beautiful if you take the time to look at it. I don't have to worry about hailing a taxi because there aren't any. I can get two pizzas for the price of what I pay for one in New York, even if I do have to go pick them up, and the baristas at the only coffee shop in town know exactly how I like my coffee."

"You mean how you take your latte," Elena muttered. Damon chuckled again.

"My point is, Mystic Falls is my home. It's where I'm supposed to be. I'm here, Elena. With you. And I'm happy. My time in New York? It was great. But that chapter of my life has come to an end. It went far too long, to be honest. I understand your fears, but I'm here, Elena. I'll say that as many times as you need to her it before you start believing it."

"I know you're here," Elena said softly. "I'm so glad you're here, Damon." It wasn't so much the words she spoke as the rawness in her voice that told Damon everything Elena was trying to say but couldn't.

"I know you are," he confirmed.

"Can I ask you one more thing?"

"Anything," Damon confirmed.

"Did I pressure you – in any way – to move back here?" Damon sighed, realizing what was going on.

"Listen to me for a minute, okay?" he asked.

"I'm listening."

"If I said you didn't play a part in why I moved back here, I would be lying. But the thing is, so did Stefan. So did the mill. And so did my dad, especially. I was unhappy. I had been for a really long time, since before I met you. It took meeting you and building a relationship with my brother to figure out what real happiness looked like. I made the decision to move back here because this is what I needed to be happy. But, I need you to tell me where this line of questioning is coming from." Elena sighed. She started playing with his hand again.

"I want us to work," she told Damon. "It hurt, so much, to walk away from you. The time we were apart was hard. I don't want to feel like that again. I don't want to lose you. Maybe I'm being insecure, but I don't want to be the reason you gave up all these things that were such a huge part of who you are. I wasn't always the most supportive, understanding person…" Damon snorted, drawing a piercing look from Elena.

"I'm sorry," Damon apologized. "It's just – you're the most patient, understanding, supportive person I have ever encountered. It's one of the many things I love about you. And I can assure you that no one wants us to work out more than I do."

"I'm acting crazy," Elena said with a shake of her head. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to apologize for any part I played in our breakup, but I sound ridiculous instead.

"You don't sound ridiculous," Damon said. "And I don't blame you for anything that happened.

"I know you don't," Elena admitted. "But I still wanted to apologize."

"Apology accepted, then," Damon told her. She gave him a small smile.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Hey," he said gently, brushing her hair back from her face. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" Elena smiled at him genuinely this time. Despite the tears forming in her eyes, her smile was happy.

"I have an idea," she said. She reached out and rested a hand on his cheek. "It's at least half as much as I love you. And I love you so much, Damon. So much it scares me." Damon closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, letting her words wash over him. This was so much more than he expected from the night.

"God, it's good to hear that again," he said. He remembered something then. Gently, he started to extricate himself from Elena, just enough to reach into his pocket for something he had stashed there earlier, waiting for the right time to produce it. This was it. "I have something for you."

"You do?" Elena asked curiously. She hoped it involved his arms around her as suddenly, she didn't feel like she could get close enough.

"I do," Damon confirmed. "Remember when we were talking on the phone the other night and I said I would bring you the moon if you asked for it?" Elena nodded, remembering the conversation. Damon reached for her hand and placed something small and cold in it. "Well, there you go." Elena looked at him for just a moment before looking to her hand. A smile so big it hurt broke across her lips.

"Damon," she said with a shake of her head. He had given her the moon, a small crescent hanging from a keychain. "I… You…" She shook her head again. "I don't know what to say. Thank you. You are amazing." She moved forward and wrapped her arms around him. He held her close, feeling a newfound sense of easiness with her.

"Anything for you," he said, pulling away slightly, his arms still around her. "Which is why I wanted to give you this. As a reminder that I will do anything for you, for our relationship. You mean everything to me, Elena. You, our relationship, that's what comes first."

"I'm going to do my part too, Damon," Elena said. Her arms still around his neck, she played with the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm not going to walk away again."

"I'm not going to let you," Damon told her. Elena studied him for a long moment, then placed a hand on his cheek.

"Kiss me," she ordered. Damon grinned. He didn't have to be told twice. He leaned in and kissed her gently, sweetly, on the lips. He pulled away just as Elena shook her head. "Kiss me, Damon," she said again. "Really kiss me." Damon looked her in the eye and saw nothing but desire. He nodded once.

"Come here," he said, gruffly. He slid a hand into the hair at the back of her head and sealed his lips over hers with one fluid motion. He kissed her deeply, pouring every ounce of passion, every ounce of longing, desire, and love he had into it. She responded in kind, kissing him back with a sense of urgency. Broken pieces of their relationship, mended in recent weeks, fused back into place.

It didn't take long for things to get heated. Damon silently asked her to part her lips and she did so with a content sigh. He sat back on the swing, pulling Elena with him. He kept his hands firmly on her hips, but his lips left hers to trail along her jawbone and down her neck. She sighed again, her own hands trailing down his chest. She placed a hand on his cheek and moved his face towards her so she could recapture his lips. Damon finally pulled away, knowing if he didn't stop now, he wouldn't be able to.

"God, I missed that," he said. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Elena replied, resting her forehead against his. "So much." Damon ran his hands up Elena's arms. She was still in his lap and he didn't plan to let her go.

"So, here's the thing," he started. "I only kiss my girlfriend like that."

"Your girlfriend?" Elena asked with a raised eyebrow. "She's going to be really upset to find out you just kissed me like that." Damon grinned.

"Somehow I don't think she will be," he said. He leaned forward and kissed her sweetly before settling back against the swing. "Be my girlfriend again," he said. "Let me introduce you to people as my better half. Let me post disgusting couple-y photos of us on Facebook and tell people how I have the best girlfriend in the entire world. Let me fall asleep at night, knowing you're mine, that you're my girlfriend."

"I'm yours," Elena told Damon without hesitation. "I am absolutely and completely yours."

"And I'm yours," Damon confirmed. "All yours."

* * *

><p><strong>And there you have it - they are, officially, back together. They've put the past behind them and are ready to move forward. And Ella is precious. <strong>

**As I mentioned, there is one more update (Caroline's wedding, anyone?) and an epilogue and then we're done. I can hardly believe it. BUT! I've wrote about 35 pages of my next story and I'm loving it. It's very different from this one, but it's going to be fun to write. I'll post the first update sometime in the next couple weeks!**

**Let me know what you think!**


	37. Settled

**Here we are. The final chapter. Wow. I'm still in denial! (No worries - there will be an epilogue!) I am so sorry for the length of time it took me to post. I started a new job (and I've been working on my new story - first chapter now posted!) and life has been extra busy, with all the fun fall things going on. ****  
><strong>

**Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and reviewing. I'm still just floored by how you all have embraced me and my story. Thank you a million times over. **

**Let's stop babbling and get to the good stuff. **

**Things I Don't Own: Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p>Stefan fell into the seat next to Damon with a sigh. "Who would have pegged Liz Forbes as one to serve cheap liquor?" he asked, making a face as he turned up his mixed drink. Damon didn't answer. Instead, produced a flask from his coat pocket. He unscrewed the top and poured a generous amount into Stefan's plastic cup.<p>

"Elena warned me," he said, answering Stefan's unasked question.

"She's a saint," Stefan proclaimed after another swig of his much stronger drink.

"That she is," Damon agreed. He topped off his own drink before screwing the top back on and tucking the flask away again. "You will have top shelf at your wedding." It wasn't a question, but statement.

"I'm in charge of the liquor," Stefan confirmed. "It's handled." Damon shook his head.

"I'm in charge of the liquor," he countered. "Consider it part of my best man duties." Stefan shrugged.

"Okay," he agreed. Damon's taste in liquor was expensive and fine and he would trust him blindly with ensuring the open bar was well-stocked. "Want to take on addressing save the dates and picking out table linens?" Damon snorted.

"You're on your own for that," he said. "Tell you what though. I'm a nice guy. You can leave my save the date stuck to my fridge. Saves you the price of a postage stamp."

"That's generous," Stefan replied dryly. Damon chuckled. He picked up his drink and searched the room with his eyes. It didn't take him long to find Elena. She was dancing with Caroline who was radiant in her wedding gown, a shiny new band glittering on her left hand. Damon smiled to himself as Rebekah joined the pair, shimming her hips and making Elena throw her head back in laughter.

He loved her. He completely and wholly loved her. What really amazed him though was the fact that she loved him. He hung on to every single time she said "I love you." Sometimes it was a quick "love you" at the end of a phone call. Other times it was a sweet "I love you," her eyes full of light and, if he dared believe it, happiness, as she looked up at him. He himself said "I love you" often, during a commercial break or out of the blue in the middle of dinner. He wanted her to know, to be sure of his feelings for her.

They had been back together, officially, for nearly a month now. The night on her porch, with her agreeing to be his girlfriend again, had been a turning point. Any residual tension had fallen away. Elena had let him back in and he had felt whole again for the first time since she walked out of his life. They had spent the rest of that night making out like teenagers until Elena was drifting off to sleep in his lap. He had gallantly carried her to bed and then slept on the couch, not willing to push his luck, but not willing to leave her either.

There had been some tension the next day, although not between he and Elena. Ric and Jenna had arrived late morning to pick up Ella and Damon had still be there, playing outside with Ella when their car pulled into the driveway. Ric gave him a questioning look before shaking his hand. As men tended to do, that was all it took for them to fall back into easy conversation.

Jenna, however, had been another story. Seven months pregnant and low on patience, she glared at Damon, pulled Elena into the house, and from what Damon gathered, asked Elena what, exactly, she was thinking, taking him back after everything he had put her through. Her reaction was a bit over the top, fueled more by hormones than actual malice, but Elena stood her ground, informing Jenna that it was her decision. Damon had decided to be the bigger person and pulled Jenna aside to offer her an apology for hurting Elena and promised to never do it again. With her husband, daughter and niece pro Damon, Jenna had no choice but to begrudgingly forgive him.

"You really love her," Stefan stated, catching Damon looking at Elena as though she was the only person in the room. And, he assumed, she probably was as far as Damon was concerned.

"More than anything," Damon confirmed. He gave a little shake of his head as though shaking away disbelief that Elena was actually his and reached for his drink once more. "We got pretty damn lucky in the woman department."

"That we did," Stefan agreed. "Rebekah and Elena are pretty amazing." The wedding DJ switched to a popular dance song. Damon and Stefan groaned at the same time while everyone on the dance floor, Elena and Rebekah included, started doing the steps that went along with it.

"Remind me to get the name of this deejay," Damon said. "I want to not hire him for my wedding."

"Your wedding?" Stefan asked, raising an eyebrow. "Something you haven't told me?" Damon shook his head.

"Not yet," he said. "We won't be stealing your wedding thunder. But if I have my way, we won't be all that far behind you."

He had been thinking a lot about proposing to Elena. He would be perfectly content to present her with his mother's engagement ring right then and there. But instead, he kept it locked away in the safe in his father's – or now, his – study, waiting for the right time. They had come a long way in a relatively short time, but they were still working through residual issues and adjusting to being in the same place, almost all the time.

His instinct at first had been to see Elena as much as possible. He had thought the more time he spent with her, the more likely she would be to see how serious he was about putting her first, making their relationship a priority. And at first, it had worked well. But, Elena was independent and liked to have time to herself. He got upset when she turned him down for a lunch date to work on the outline of her next book and that had led to their first fight since getting back together.

But, true to her word, Elena hadn't walked away. She had calmly explained to Damon that she loved him and loved spending time with him, but also wanted, needed, some time to herself as well to do the things she loved, like writing, just like he needed his own space to tinker with his car or read. He had sulked, had pushed back with a low blow about how first, he was never around and now, he was around too much, what exactly did she want for him? In hindsight, he couldn't have blamed her if she turned on her heel and walked out of the boarding house given his immature approach to the fight, but instead, she had stood her ground and they had worked through things.

The song changed to a slower number. Damon put his drink down and stood. "I'm going to dance with my woman," he told Stefan.

"Guess that means I have to dance with mine," Stefan grumbled although he was slow to follow Damon to the dance floor. Damon met Elena on the perimeter.

"Dance with me?" he asked, gallantly holding his hand out and bowing. Elena giggled.

"Of course," she said, taking his hand. He spun her in a circle and then swept her into his arms, pulling her close. "You're such a good dancer." Damon grinned.

"And you're a little drunk," he teased, nuzzling her hair.

"Am not!" Elena protested.

"Are too," Damon replied. "You've had one too many glasses of wine, Miss Gilbert."

"In that case, I guess you're driving us home."

"I drove us here," Damon reminded her.

"Technically, the limo drove me here. With the wedding party." Damon rolled his eyes. It was rare that drunk or even tipsy Elena made an appearance, but he was always amused when she did.

"Fine," he relented. "But I, as your date, drove us to the rehearsal dinner last night where I begrudgingly left you to spend one last night with Caroline as a single woman. And I'll be the one driving us home tonight." ,

"Home?" Elena asked flirtatiously. "My home or your home?"

"Whichever you prefer," Damon answered. He pulled her still closer, never able to get enough of her. "You're my home, remember? Doesn't matter where we are otherwise."

"You can be so sweet," Elena mused. She rested her head on his shoulder as they swayed. "We're going to be okay, Damon." Damon raised an eyebrow even as he kissed her temple. He didn't know what inspired her to say that, but he wasn't going to question it.

"We are," he confirmed. "We're going to be just fine."

"Our wedding is going to kick this wedding's ass," Elena continued. Damon burst out laughing, still holding Elena tight.

"Don't let Caroline hear you say that."

"Think about it," Elena said, pulling away just enough to look up at Damon. The song changed to a faster number, but Damon and Elena continued their slow dance. "We know what Caroline and Tyler did. Then, we get to be Best Man and Maid of Honor in Stefan and Rebekah's wedding. That will be all of our friends married, so we will know what they did at their weddings and then we can top it." Damon chuckled again.

"I like the way you think, Gilbert," he said. He twirled her again. "But right now, I think we should visit the coffee bar."

"I don't want coffee. How about another glass of wine?" Elena proposed, wrapping her arms around Damon once more.

"I think you've had enough wine," Damon countered. "You're going to have quite the hangover in the morning if you keep going."

"Good thing you know how to take care of hangovers then," Elena quipped. Damon chuckled.

"That I do," he agreed. He dipped his head down and kissed her lightly. "Coffee?"

"If you insist," Elena pretend pouted. Then, her eyes lit up. "We could sneak off into the coat closet! I haven't actually seen one around here, but this place is pretty fancy so I'm sure there is one. We could do what we didn't do the night we met." Damon kissed Elena's cheek again.

"As much as I'm dying to get back into your pants, I don't want to get into your pants in a coat room at a wedding," he answered. As much as their relationship had progressed, they still hadn't crossed the line into complete intimacy. They had decided as a couple to take the physical side of their relationship slow.

"My, how you've changed," Elena quipped grinning up at him, her cheeks flushed and happy. Damon smirked.

"I haven't changed all that much," he stated. "I normally wouldn't bat an eyelash at whisking you off to a coat closet and having my way with you. Except, I'd like our first time since getting back together to be a classier affair."

"So, I'm going to guess we won't be getting naked tonight given my state of almost drunkenness?" Elena replied. Damon laughed again and planted one more kiss on her cheek.

"I would rather you be sober," he confirmed, thinking 'almost' was more like a 'definite,' Elena just didn't want to admit it. "That way, when I make you call out my name over and over, you'll be sure to remember it in the morning."

"If you make me scream your name over and over, I'll remember it the next day no matter what," Elena said coyly. She pressed her hips into Damon's suggestively. He groaned.

"Coffee," he said, giving her a squeeze before letting her go. "Now. Otherwise, I'm not going to be able to control myself."

* * *

><p>Elena groaned and rolled over, pulling the comforter over her head to block out the light streaming in through the windows. Someone chuckled. "Shut up," she mumbled. They laughed again, this time with more enthusiasm. Without warning, the blankets were pulled off her head.<p>

"Morning, sunshine," Damon stated.

"Go away," Elena replied, making Damon laugh once more.

"I brought pain killers and water," he told her. "And there's a big, greasy breakfast menu planned should you ever decide to join the land of the living today."

"Stop talking and give me the pain killers," Elena stated, pulling a hand out from under the covers.

"Your wish, my command," Damon answered. He placed two pills in her outstretched hand. She popped them in her mouth, pushed herself into a sitting position with another groan, and accepted the bottle of water Damon was offering her.

"I need coffee," she said. "Lots of it."

"Pot's already on," Damon confirmed. He reached out and tucked a strand of tangled hair behind her ear. He smiled at the disarray. Half of her hair was still in its up do for the wedding, although he had done what he could to pull the pins out in the wee hours of the morning, a job that proved to be never ending. She had slept in her makeup, the mascara smudged around her eyes. He had helped her out of her dress and into one of his t-shirts and she had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. He was sure she had never been more beautiful.

"What?" Elena asked, looking at him curiously. Damon smiled at her.

"You're beautiful," he declared. "Absolutely beautiful."

"You are so full of it," she said with a shake of her head. Still, she leaned forward and gave him a quick but sweet kiss that still faintly tasted of red wine and the mint toothpaste she had haphazardly used several hours earlier.

"I'm not full of it," Damon argued. He reached for her and pulled her closer, leaning back against the pillows as he maneuvered her into his lap. "I'm telling the God's honest truth."

"Maybe you're still drunk from last night," Elena stated. She kissed him again.

"Only one of us is hungover this morning," Damon retorted. He buried a hand in the back of her hair and pulled her even closer so he could kiss her again, this time deepening the kiss. Elena sighed with contentment as she parted her lips for him at his unspoken request.

"I am not hungover," Elena said as they broke apart for air. Damon snorted back a laugh.

"'Give me the pain killers,'" he mimicked in a high pitched voice. "'I need coffee.'"

"Shut up," Elena muttered before she kissed him again. By now, she was straddling his hips, Damon's hands on her hips as he flirted with the edges of the t-shirt's hem.

"I love you," Damon breathed as he continued kissing her.

"I love you," Elena responded. Her hands roamed the hard lines of his chest. She kissed him again. "But I really do need coffee." Damon chuckled. He kissed her once more before he let her go. She got up as gracefully as she could manage. Her head did hurt, but on the whole, her hangover wasn't all that bad.

"You love me, but you love coffee more," Damon said as he got out of bed as well. "I see how it is." Elena looked over her shoulder at him as she made her way to his bathroom.

"I do love you more than coffee," she said. "But please, don't make me prove it." Damon burst out laughing then. He went in search of a t-shirt before he descended the stairs, only to hear Elena shriek from the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" he called out, already heading in her direction.

"You are a liar!" Elena exclaimed. Damon appeared in the doorway and realized she had gotten a glimpse of herself in the mirror. He grinned.

"What, pray tell, did I lie about?" he asked.

"'You're beautiful,'" she mocked, as he had done earlier. "'Absolutely beautiful.' I look like a meth addict in need of a fix!" She turned on the faucet and went to work trying to find the remaining pins in her hair.

"More like a hungover maid of honor in need of coffee," Damon replied seriously. Elena scoffed and threw a hairpin at him. She missed him by several feet. "That's the best you can do?" he asked.

"I'll hurl this bottle of hairspray at you if you make one more peep," Elena stated. Damon crinkled up his nose.

"Why is there hairspray in my bathroom?" he asked.

"It's mine," Elena said. "Can you be useful and hand me a washcloth from the linen closet."

"Will it result in a bottle of hairspray being hurled at my head?" Damon replied, even as he moved towards the linen closet.

"If it's accompanied by another comment about being hungover or how beautiful you seem to think I am, yes."

"Such violence in this tiny little body," Damon said, looping an arm around Elena's waist and kissing her cheek as he dropped a clean washcloth on the sink. "I'm going to go downstairs and make you that big, greasy breakfast."

"I really do love you," Elena said. She tilted her kid so she could kiss Damon's cheek and then ran the washcloth under her faucet. Damon smiled, smacked her backside playfully, and then ducked out of the bathroom laughing as she shrieked again.

Still smiling, Damon entered the kitchen and went to work, frying bacon and eggs and feeding slices of bread to the toaster. He was slicing an avocado, having recently discovered that Elena loved them, when she entered the room. She was freshly showered and wearing another one of his shirts.

"You have your own bottle of hairspray in my bathroom, but you don't have any of your own clothes here?" he asked. Elena smiled, her damp hair hanging around her makeup-free face. Damon realized he was wrong earlier. This was as beautiful as he had ever seen her.

"I have my own clothes here," she stated. "But, yours are more comfortable. And they look better on me."

"That's hard to argue with," Damon agreed. "Pour us a couple mugs of coffee? I'm going to finish up breakfast." Elena nodded and set about her task. Within a few minutes, Damon slid a plate in front of Elena and sat down across from her at kitchen island.

"This looks amazing," she stated.

"Bacon, egg, cheese and avocado sandwich with a side of fried potatoes," Damon said. "I seriously missed my calling as a chef."

"I don't know," Elena said seriously. "That beefaroni you made the other day really missed the mark."

"It came from a can and I was in a hurry," Damon shot back, making Elena laugh through a bite of her sandwich. Damon smiled as his picked up his own sandwich.

These were his favorite moments with Elena. They went on plenty of dinner dates at everywhere from The Grill to expensive French places in Charlottesville. They went to the movies and had taken both a cooking class and a painting class. She had gone with him on his most recent trip to New York where they had spontaneously decided to make it a long weekend in the Hamptons which was a virtual ghost town as it had been just shy of 'the season.'

But these moments, teasing her as she washed her face, sitting across from her having breakfast, those were the moments he loved. When he thought of Elena, he didn't automatically think of her in a little black dress, seated across from him as they tried to decipher the French menu. He thought of her sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, her hair piled into a knot on the top of her head, chattering away about her plans for the day as he leisurely got ready for work. He thought of her showing up unannounced the mill with lunch or playing the lookout while he rigged the kitchen sink sprayer with a rubber band when he and Stefan had been in the middle of a childish prank war a couple weeks ago.

There was no use. He was going to have to ask her.

"So, I've been thinking…" he started.

"About?" Elena prompted.

"You only have, like, one drawer of stuff here." Elena nodded.

"I guess that's true," she said. "Although, I think there's a dress or two of mine in the closet."

"Looks like you've bought duplicates of all your beauty things," Damon continued. "I never see you really carrying a bag, but all of your stuff is in my bathroom."

"Is that a problem?" Elena asked, raising an eyebrow. She shoved a forkful of potatoes into her mouth. Damon nodded.

"It is," he said. "It's a problem that some of your stuff is here, and some of your stuff is forty-five minutes away."

"If you want me to take my stuff home, I will," Elena said, growing defensive. "You can have your precious bathroom space that you weren't actually using back."

"See, that's the thing. I don't want you to take your stuff home."

"Then what do you want?" Elena asked. "Because I'm not exactly following you." Damon swallowed down the nerves he was suddenly feeling.

"I want you to move in here, with me."

Silence followed. Having made his request, he waited, the ball in Elena's court. He had thought this through and had plenty of answers ready to go to any question or doubt she threw his way. He just had to hedge his bets and wait for her to respond. It felt like forever, but was really no more than a full minute, before she finally spoke. He found himself leaning forward in an effort to make sure he heard every word she was about to say.

"You want me to move in here, with you?" she asked. Damon nodded.

"That's right," he confirmed. "I would say it makes the most sense."

"And why would it make the most sense?"

"How many times in the last two weeks have you slept at your place?" he asked. "Just in the last two weeks. We're not talking about any other timeframe. Regardless, the statistics would be similar." Elena looked at him as she did the math in her head.

"10 days," she said, making a face as she realized just how many days she had gone without going to the lake house. "I've slept here 10 of the last 14 days."

"11 days," Damon corrected. "And it would have been 12, had Caroline not insisted that you spend the night before her wedding with her."

"It's been 10 days," Elena argued. Damon shook his head.

"11," he said again. "I'm counting the night you turned up at 2AM – with Ella, might I add – because you couldn't sleep at Ric and Jenna's with the baby crying at the top of its lungs all night." Elena frowned.

"I forgot about that," she admitted. "Lack of sleep."

"So, that's 11 of the last 14 days," he said. "Seeing as one was spent at the hotel with the bride, you have only spent 2 nights at your place. If you want to look into the last 30 days, the number of days you've slept here creeps into the mid-twenties."

"Okay, so I haven't slept at my place as much lately," she conceded. "I mean, there was Caroline and Tyler's wedding, Bonnie's birthday thing, Jenna and Ric's new baby… There's been a lot going on. I can stay at my place if it's a problem that I'm here so much." Damon sighed and shook his head.

"Did you miss the part where I asked you to move in?" he asked.

"No, I just…," Elena floundered for words. "You're asking me to move in." Damon nodded.

"I am," he confirmed. "You don't have to tell me yes or no right now. I know it's a big change. But I'd like to throw the option down on the table." Elena nodded slowly.

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I'm asking," Damon said. It wasn't all he was asking. He was asking her to move in with him, take the next step in their relationship. While he had hoped for an immediate "yes" from her, he supposed it was the natural response to be surprised by his request.

"What would I do with the lake house?" Elena questioned, speaking her thoughts out loud. Damon raised an eyebrow.

"The same thing your parents did with it all those years," he replied. "Use it as a vacation home. I assure you, you and I will frequent it. I'm not above whisking you away to the lake on a spur of the moment getaway."

"It would be nice to be closer to Ella and the baby," Elena continued, not really paying Damon much attention as she sifted through her thoughts. She picked up the remaining half of her sandwich and took another bite.

"Ethan," Damon said. "The kid's name is Ethan." Elena rolled her eyes while she chewed. There was an ongoing debate between Jenna and Rica about referring to their newborn as "the baby" versus his given name of Ethan. Sides had been taken and it was clearly the women against the men.

"He is the baby," Elena pointed out. "He's three weeks old."

"Yeah, but he's also got a name – Ethan. You and Jenna keep calling him 'the baby' and he's going to be answering to it when his 10 years old."

"Oh, they'll have at least one more kid by then," Elena said with a wave of her hand. "And then that one will be called 'the baby.'"

"See? It's not even a permanent nickname. If you want to nickname him, call him something like 'Saltz' or 'Big E.' Give him something cool."

"'Saltz or 'Big E'?" Elena asked. "That's your idea of a cool nickname?" Damon nodded, continuing to eat his breakfast. Elena shook her head. "You are not allowed to nickname our kids." Damon raised his eyebrow again.

"We jumped from moving in together to having kids," he stated. "Does that mean you agreed to move in with me at some point over the last 30 or so seconds?" Elena narrowed her eyes at Damon.

"Like you didn't know I was going to agree to move in with you," she stated. Damon's eyes grew wide.

"You will?" he asked, unable to hide his surprise. "You're going to move in with me?" Elena shrugged casually and continued eating her breakfast.

"I thought about it," she started.

"For 30 seconds," Damon grumbled, earning himself another glare. He smirked in response, but didn't date remind her that less than two minutes ago, she had said she needed to think it over.

"I thought about it," Elena said again, raising her voice an octave. "And, I mean, you're right…"

"Wait, I'm what?" Damon interrupted again. Elena fixed him with still another glare, this one lacking the playfulness of her previous ones. He held up his hands as a gesture of peace. She nodded once and continued.

"I spend a lot of time in Mystic Falls, visiting Ric and Jenna, hanging out with Ella and now, Ethan. Bonnie and Jeremy live here and Caroline and Tyler are only like, 45 minutes away. And technically, Caroline still works here, since this is where her office that she never actually uses is. Stefan and Rebekah just bought a house here. I love the lake and living there has been amazing, but I think the idea of the place being used as a vacation home again – like Mom and Dad intended it to be – isn't all that bad of an idea. Plus, I already have a key to the Boarding House."

"You do, indeed, already have a key," Damon confirmed, recalling the day not too long after they had officially gotten back together that he had casually given her back her spare key to the Boarding House, the same one he had found left behind on his dresser the day after she had left him. Soon after, she had given him a key to her place, something he hadn't had before as there had never really been a need, given the sparse amount of time he spent in Mystic Falls back then. "Ric, Jenna, the kiddos, Stefan, Rebekah… They all live here. Caroline and Tyler may as well live here… What about your boyfriend? Where does he live?" Elena smiled at him as she slid off her stool. She rounded the kitchen island and sauntered up to Damon who had turned on his stool to face her as she approached.

"He lives in Mystic Falls too," she said as she looped her arms around Damon and came to stand between his legs. "So, you better not tell him about this little arrangement of ours."

"What little arrangement would that be?" Damon asked. He encircled her with his arms and pulled her closer.

"This whole living together thing," Elena said. "He would kick your ass."

"Is that so?" Elena nodded.

"He's this big guy, has a really nasty temper. I'd stay away from him if I were you."

"Duly noted," Damon said with a chuckle. He hugged Elena tighter as her arms tightened around him. "We're doing this?" he asked again. Elena looked at him square in the eye and nodded.

"We're doing this," she repeated. "Me, you, this house, our stuff. We're doing this."

"We're doing this," Damon said once more. He leaned in then and kissed her deeply, relishing in the way she fell against him with a happy sigh as she deepened the kiss. They didn't pull away until they needed to breathe.

"I love you," Elena breathed out. Damon smiled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I love you too," he said. "So much." His arms still around her, he gave her a gentle squeeze. Elena's hand trailed down his chest.

"Damon?"

"Hmm?" He kissed her temple, unable to get enough of her.

"Take me upstairs." Damon pulled away just enough to look at her to make sure he heard her correctly.

"What?"

"Take me upstairs," Elena repeated firmly. Her eyes, locked on his, were full of desire, trust. Damon didn't have to be told again.

"Come here," he said gruffly. He swept her off her feet and into his arms, eliciting a squeal from her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom.

To their bedroom.

It was peaceful throughout the Salvatore Boarding House. Elena and Damon were seated side by side on the couch, each buried in a book, their feet propped up on the coffee table. They had spent several hours between the sheets, getting intimately reacquainted with each other. There were time when Damon in particular regretted agreeing to take things slow physically, but he could say with confidence that it was worth it.

With a content sigh, Damon closed his book and stretched his arms over his head while rolling his neck.

"Finished?" Elena asked, not taking her eyes off of her own book.

"I'm coming back as a Navy SEAL in my next life," Damon informed her. He waved the book he still held in his hand. "This guy is a bad ass."

"Then I want to come back as the damsel in distress you rescue and fall in love with," Elena informed him. She marked the place in her book and closed it.

"Regardless of what we come back as in our next lives, we'll still manage to find one another," Damon informed her. Elena smiled and shook her head slightly in amusement. Damon managed to take her breath away at the most surprising times. The better part of the last year had been full of ups and downs, but worth every bump.

"Can I make a recommendation for the next book you should read?" she asked. Damon raised an eyebrow.

"As long as it's not about vampires or a bunch of kids fighting to the death in arenas controlled by crowd sentiment."

"It's not," Elena promised, already putting her book aside. She stood and hurried out of the room. Content, Damon sat back on the couch and blew out a breath, relaxing into the leather as he closed his eyes. He was reminded of his earlier thought, about how these moments were the ones he found so precious. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Elena's footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors upstairs. A handful of minutes later, she returned.

"We need to talk about redecorating this place," he said, his eyes still closed. He felt Elena place a book in his lap as she sat down beside him. "All this dark wood and antique furniture has been done to death."

"We can talk about that later," Elena said. Damon's eyes flickered open and landed on hers. He grinned.

"You already have an idea about what you want," he teased, catching the gleam in her eye. Elena shook her head quickly.

"No, I just…"

"You just have a whole Pinterest board full of home décor ideas," Damon interrupted. "Home décor, weddings, parties, crafts you'll never make…"

"We'll talk about it later," Elena said pointedly, making Damon laugh. He turned his attention to the book in his lap. He sucked in a breath out of surprise.

"Your book," he managed to croak out. Elena nodded.

"Open it," she said softly. Damon looked at her for a long moment, suddenly nervous. He still had not read Elena's second book, not because he didn't want to, but because his lingering feelings of guilt over how their relationship had hit rock bottom still haunted the recesses of his mind and for some reason he was sure a psychiatrist would have a field day with, he identified reading her book with losing her. Finally, he flipped open the front cover, expecting to see her signature. There was nothing. "Turn the page," Elena urged gently. Damon did so. He sucked in a breath. On the page opposite of the printed book dedication was Elena's elegant penmanship.

"_I only know that I love you. That's your misfortune." – Love, Lena _

"Lena," he breathed out, his eyes reading the _Gone With The Wind _quote again, the same quote he had muttered the night he had first said "I love you."

"You said you wanted a signed copy," she said quietly. She instinctively understood the significance of the signed book to Damon. "Now, you have no excuse not to read it." Damon reached for her and pulled her into his lap.

"Thank you," he said softly, resting his forehead against hers. They both knew he was saying thank you for more than the book. Elena played with the hair at the nape of Damon's neck.

"Read the dedication," she told him. Damon moved just enough so he could look at the book again. He bit his lip, overwhelmed. Following Jenna, Ric and Ella, whose names were listed first in Elena's dedication paragraph, was his name. _Damon, Thank you for proving that I was wrong about you. _

"You weren't wrong about me," he said after several moments. "But, you changed me. You make me a better man." Elena shook her head, her fingers still working through Damon's hair.

"You have always been a good man, Damon," she said. "You just had to figure that out for yourself." Damon pulled Elena even closer.

"I'm going to read this book immediately," he said, placing the book on a nearby end table. He kissed her softly. "But first, I'm going to make love to you." With that, he gently laid Elena on the sofa. He knew, as he carefully settled his weight over her, that he would marry her soon. He couldn't stand her not being his wife much longer.

His lips on hers, a sense of peace he had never felt before washed over him.

He was in Mystic Falls.

He was with Elena.

He was home.

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><p><strong>If I had it to do over, I would have named this story "Turning Home." <strong>

**Home was such a huge theme throughout. What is home? Where is home? Elena's home is Mystic Falls. It's where she feels safe, loved. Damon's home is with Elena for the same reasons. And, I daresay, Elena's home has shifted to Damon as well. **

**They have come full circle, fallen in love and basically fallen in love again. I like where we're leaving them. **

**Stay tuned for the epilogue! **

**And - shameless self promotion - please check out my new story, _Restrictor Plate. _It's quite different from this one, but it's going to be fun. I'm loving writing it - hence why there are almost 75 pages of it already finished!**


	38. Epilogue

**Sigh. This is it. This is the end. I think I've delayed in posting this because I don't want it to be over. I cannot say thank you enough for embracing me and this story. I have adored every single one of your reviews and I am so proud of this story, from start to finish. Thank you so much. **

**I hope you like the end. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

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><p>The large house was quiet as he made his way down the stairs carefully, a small bundle of pink cradled protectively in his arms. It was this moment, his first chance to have a few minutes entirely alone with his newborn daughter, that he hadn't known he was waiting for until now.<p>

The last three days were a blur of fear, happiness, nerves, and overwhelming gratitude. He had been at the mill when Elena called to tell him she was in labor, as calm as though she were simply calling to remind him to pick up the dry cleaning or ask him to pick up milk on his way home. He, however, had been anything but calm, leaving the mill in a blur of forgotten wallets and shouts that Elena was in labor. He had broken a number of traffic laws, the least of which was the speed limit, before skidding to a stop at their front door.

Inside, Elena was sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, rubbing her very pregnant belly as she absentmindedly watched a daytime talk show. She was freshly showered, her hair and makeup done, and wearing yoga pants and one of his t-shirts which was stretched tight over her stomach. She had laughed at how anxious he was, told him they had plenty of time before their baby made its arrival. He had just started to calm down when a contraction hit.

For the next fourteen hours, he had been on edge, a bundle of nerves as the fact that he was going to be a father started to become a reality. He had spent months preparing, reading books and going to parenting classes with Elena. He painted the nursery and spent a very long night damning the Pottery Barn gods to hell for making baby cribs so complicated. Putting the car seat in their newly purchased, child-friendly SUV had been an ordeal in and of itself and the day his accountant bought up things like paying for college and starting trust funds gave him a headache unmatched by any hangover he had ever had. But despite everything he had done since Elena had told him she was pregnant, he had felt utterly unprepared as the minutes counted down to meeting his firstborn.

He was terrified by the whole process of labor. His heart rate skyrocketed every time another contraction came. He couldn't take Elena being in pain and as she screamed out and squeezed his hand viciously while he muttered useless things about how great she was doing and reminding her to breathe, he knew childbirth was, in fact, excruciating. He worried and fretted over how long it was taking, kept asking doctors and nurses if everything was okay, checking and double checking that both Elena and the baby were being monitored. Women gave birth every day. He had the niece and nephew to prove it. But his mother, the only other woman he had loved besides Elena, had died giving birth and he knew he wouldn't survive losing Elena – or their baby.

Elena had proved she was stronger than he could ever dream of being, however. Despite his pleas and the kind suggestions from several nurses, Elena had refused drugs, and fourteen hours later, Charlotte Miranda Salvatore made her grand entrance, weighing in a seven pounds on the nose, measuring 21 inches long. Damon had stopped breathing until her cries filled the room, and then she was in Elena's arms and he had wrapped both of them in his, both he and Elena crying happy tears of their own as Charlie, as they had quickly started to call her, started to calm against her mother's chest.

They didn't know the baby's gender until she arrived. They had agreed to wait until birth to find out, although they had both nearly caved more than once. The instant he learned he had a daughter, his protectiveness had gone into overdrive and his heart had turned to mush. And now, after two days of hospitals and a flurry of visitors, he finally had his daughter – his wife, and his house – to himself. It had taken banning visitors – namely Caroline – for the next 24 hours, but things were finally quiet. The three had enjoyed a midday nap before Charlie woke up, demanding a meal and a fresh diaper. Elena had woke up to feed her. He took care of the diaper, then encouraged Elena to go back to sleep. He knew she was exhausted after a rough first night at home and thought she deserved a few minutes of shut eye where she could get it.

And in turn, he got a few minutes to bond with his daughter.

"So," he said, carefully settling onto the comfortable couch he and Elena had picked out together a couple years ago, "how was your first night at home?" Charlie merely blinked, her eyes focused on Damon. He chuckled. "Not much of a talker yet, huh?"

Her eyes were a dark blue for now, but he was sure they would turn chocolate brown, just like her mother's. She already reminded him of Elena, although her little tuft of hair was as dark as his. Elena said she hoped Charlie's eyes stayed blue like her daddy's, but he was holding out for brown, also sure he would ultimately be right.

"You know, I'm pretty happy you're here," he continued. He shifted Charlie so she was nestled in the crook of his arm. He reached out and straightened the headband Elena had slipped on her after she ate. "I was pretty scared there for a while, waiting for you to get here. But now, you're here and you're perfect and your mom and I couldn't love you more. Except, tomorrow, we will love you more. And the day after that, we will love you even more than we will tomorrow."

Charlie yawned, making him chuckle again.

"I'm that boring, huh?" he asked. He knew newborns slept a lot, but for the moment, Charlie's eyes were open. He decided to take advantage of the situation. "You haven't had a proper tour of your home, have you?" he asked. "Let's show you where you're going to grow up."

He stood carefully, still getting used to the feeling of a baby in his arms, and started towards the kitchen. The Boarding House had changed dramatically over the three years he and Elena had lived in it together. They had remodeled, room by room, brightening the place with a soft color palette of blues, grays, and whites and trading the dark, mostly leather, furniture that had been in the home since Damon and Stefan were kids in favor of comfortable, welcoming pieces. Damon had declared more than once that Elena kept Pottery Barn in business completely on her own. It felt like a home now, lived in and full of love. He was already looking forward to the holidays in a few months, hosting Thanksgiving and sharing Charlie's first Christmas with Elena.

"Okay," he said to Charlie. "This is the kitchen. We spend a lot of time here. I do most of the cooking. Your mom has a lot of talents, but cooking is not one of them. Although, she has gotten better. Marginally." Charlie continued to look at him, blinking occasionally. He smiled out of sheer happiness. "Your mom made a rule that we have dinner together every night as a family, just like she did growing up, so you are expected to be at the dinner table every evening, no excuses. We have breakfast together most mornings, too. That's one of my favorite parts of the day. And now, you will be there too."

He wandered over to the French doors that led out to the patio.

"See our backyard?" he asked. "You've got a lot of space to run and play. We'll put a swing set out there when you're older, and a playhouse. I want you to have a trampoline, but your mom already said no to that one. Seems she thinks you might break your neck, or something. We'll work on her though, wear her down. If you want a trampoline, of course." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Charlie's forehead. "I want you to have everything you could ever want."

He turned and walked out of the kitchen, making his way through the house, pointing out rooms and telling her little anecdotes. When he reached the library, he held his breath as he held Charlie in one arm and used the other to open the door. He relaxed again when both arms were around Charlie, wondering briefly if and when he would be one of those parents who could hold a kid in one arm and slay dragons with the other. He entered the room which, aside from a new rug and arm chairs, had remained largely unchanged. There was also a new set of shelves which Damon wandered towards.

"This is the library," he said. "See this shelf here? I added it a few weeks ago. It's full of kids' books for you. You have a bunch of books in your room, but I wanted you to have a place here, too. I hope you love books as much as your mom and I do." He walked to another nearby shelf. "See these?" he asked, pointing a finger towards a series of books, all while keeping two hands on Charlie. "Those are your mom's books. All bestsellers. She's a pretty great writer. She keeps a journal, writes in it every day. I've never read it – it's hers – but I think you and I are probably two of her favorite topics to write about."

He turned and left the library, pausing in the hallway to rotate Charlie from one arm to the other. Once she was settled and he was sure he was supporting her head the way the nurses had showed him time and time again, he continued their tour to his study. Again, he held his breath as he cradled Charlie in one arm to open the sturdy oak door.

Other than a new desk chair and the photos that lined his desk and the mantle of the fireplace, the study was largely unchanged. It was understood that it was his place, his sanctuary within the house where he went to get work done or to cool off after a bad day. It was also his father's and stood as a sort of legacy to the man he largely missed the chance to know. Damon didn't doubt that Elena had left the library alone as well as a tribute to his mother. It made her love her all the more.

"This is Daddy's study," he told Charlie. "You can come in here whenever you want, okay? I used to come in here and play with my trucks or read a book while my dad worked when I was really small." He ran a gentle finger along Charlie's cheek. She was so tiny, so helpless. He couldn't help but puff out his chest a bit in pride. He made his way over to the mantle, so absorbed Charlie and their tour that he didn't hear Elena's footsteps approaching. She intended to join him in the study, but stopped in the doorway to watch, to listen, her breath taken away by the sweet scene before her.

"See all these photos?" he asked. "These people are your family. We have a bit of an unconventional family, but they are family all the same." He started with the photo on the far end.

"This guy? This is Uncle Harper. He's a football player, full of himself. He's one of Daddy's clients, but he's also a good friend to me and your mom. He likes to tease me and hit on your mom, so don't pay any attention to what he says. He isn't married yet, but he'll settle down one of these days. It happens to the best of us." He grinned. "Trust me, I know." Elena bit her lip to keep from giggling.

"Right here, next to him, is Aunt Caroline and Uncle Tyler. Caroline has been your mom's best friend practically since birth. She's hyper, always buzzing about with first one thing and the next. She plans all the town events, even though she and Uncle Tyler live about 45 minutes away and they are always over the top. She usually ropes your mom in to help her, which means I get roped in because I have an inability to tell your mother no. Something tells me you're going to have the same sort of advantage over me." Elena smiled. There was no "going to" about it. Charlie already had Damon wrapped around her very tiny pinkie. "She planned a huge baby shower for your mom, and she's already talking about your first birthday party. She might bankrupt me, if we don't rein her in.

"Uncle Tyler is a lawyer," he continued. "He's a partner now. He's actually my lawyer. Chester retired – I think I may have had something to do with that, something about being difficult – but Tyler is pretty good at what he does. So, if you ever get in trouble, which you better not, but I fully expect you will because word on the street is that you get paid back for your actions through your kids and, well, I was a hell raiser, we know a good lawyer. Here's to hoping your mother's good genes cancel out some of mine."

This time, Elena bit the inside of her cheek to stop her chuckle.

"Over here is your Uncle Jeremy and Aunt Bonnie. Uncle Jeremy is your mom's brother and Aunt Bonnie is her other best friend. They moved to Baltimore about a year ago so Jeremy could take a coaching job at a small college up there. Bonnie has her own art studio. She actually painted one of the pieces in your nursery. Uncle Jer gave you a miniature football. I'm not really sure what you're supposed to do with that. I've only known you for a couple of days, but you don't look like much of a quarterback from where I'm standing."

He looked down at Charlie. She was still awake, but her eyes were starting to get heavy. "Your mom misses them more than she lets on. They are just a few hours' drive away, but I know she would like them to be closer, especially if they ever get around to having kids."

Elena rolled her eyes. Ever since he learned he was going to be a father, Damon had decided everyone needed to have children and had been dropping not so subtle hints that Bonnie and Jeremy and Caroline and Tyler needed to get started popping out kids so his would have someone to play with.

"And this is Aunt Jenna and Uncle Ric and their kids, Ella and Ethan. They just found out they are going to have another one which means Jenna and Elena might actually start calling Ethan by his name instead of 'the baby' now that there is going to be another baby." Again, Elena rolled her eyes. They did tend to refer to Ethan as the baby, but only when Damon was around because they knew it annoyed him.

"Uncle Ric was the closest thing I had to a friend when I was growing up. He's a good buddy now. He's always good for drinking a glass of bourbon. Although, things have changed. We used to talk about cars and girls. Now, I ask him for parenting tips." He shook his head in disbelief at how different his life was these days. "Ella is thrilled that you're here. She's been wanting a girl to play with. Ethan doesn't quite get it, but he's barely two, so we'll let him slide.

"Aunt Jenna and your mom are really close. Aunt Jenna stepped up in a big way, taking care of your mom and Uncle Jeremy. She was the one your mom went to every time she had a question about pregnancy. She was with us during most of your mom's labor, but we kicked her out just before you were actually born. We wanted that moment to be between the two of us, and you. I expect she'll be around a lot in the next few weeks, helping out, giving pointers."

Elena smiled sadly. She loved Jenna, but she wished it were her own mother who was there, helping her figure out how to be a mom.

"And this really ugly guy standing next to this pretty blonde – even though I prefer brunettes? This is your Uncle Stefan and Aunt Rebekah. They got married before your mom and I, but I beat him in the having kids department, so ultimately, I win."

Elena's hand flew to her mouth to cover up the scoff that came out.

"I like to give Uncle Stefan a hard time, but you know what? He's my best friend." Elena felt her heart constrict. "We weren't always close, because your daddy has a hard head, but now, other than your mom, and now, you, he's the one person I couldn't live without." Tears burned at Elena's eyes, even as she smiled.

"That's one of my biggest wishes for you," he continued to Charlie. "For you to have siblings that can be both your worst enemy and your best friend. Bonus points for having Uncle Stefan as your uncle? He's a doctor. A real, bonafide doctor. He just took an attending position at the hospital. Things were up in the air there for a few weeks, while he finished his fellowship and job searched. He gets to stay put though, which means he's going to be around for a long time to come.

"It also means Aunt Rebekah won't have to give up her house. She loves that place, decorating it and re-decorating it. I think she has baby fever now that she's met you. I could see it in her eyes when she took you into her arms. I can't blame her though. You're pretty damn cute." Damon made a face. "Guess I'm going to have to start watching my language, huh?" Elena bit her lip yet again to keep from laughing.

"See these people? This is your Grandma and Grandpa Gilbert. They are your mom's parents. They died in an accident when your mom was only 16 years old." Elena chewed on her lip, a wave of sadness washing over her. Her parents had been gone for a long time, but, with the arrival of Charlie, she missed them more than ever. "They would have loved to meet you. They would have loved you and spoiled you. I'm not sure what Papa Grayson would have thought about his daughter marrying me, but I like to think I would have won him over eventually, just by loving your mom."

Elena smiled despite the tears that had welled up once more. Her parents would have loved Damon. Maybe not right away, but he tended to grow on people. He had certainly grown on her.

"And right here? Next to your Grandparents Gilbert? That's my mom and dad, your Grandpa and Grandma Salvatore. I like to think they would want to be called Papa and Gigi, but I have no idea. They would have loved you too, so much. My mom was a good mom. She died when I was really little, but she loved me so much that I still remember. I'm going to love you just as much, more, even." Elena wiped a tear out of her eye and silently cursed her out of whack hormones.

"You were named after her, you know. Her name was Maria Charlotte Paxton Salvatore. Your name is Charlotte Miranda. You get Grandma Salvatore's middle name as your first name and Grandma Gilbert's first name as your middle name. That's a pretty special name. Your mom came up with it and when I heard it, I knew it was perfect.

"Grandpa Salvatore? He was a great man, Charlie. I was pig headed and awful and didn't realize it until it was too late. He taught me a lot though, especially about what it means to be a good father. I hope I can be half as good of a father to you as he was to me. And I hope even more that you don't push me away, not like I did with him."

Elena wiped at another stray tear.

"It breaks my heart for you that you won't have grandparents," he continued. "You deserve grandparents. But, at least we know you've got two incredible sets of guardian angels to watch over you.

"I promise you, you will never know what it's like not to be loved and cherished. Our family is unconventional, but that's what we are – a family. We love each other and we support each other. We fight sometimes, but we always figure it out. You were born into a pretty good family, if I do say so myself, kiddo."

Elena smiled, her hand over her chest. She couldn't have married a better man.

"And this picture? This one right here in the middle? That's my favorite one," Damon told Charlie. He looked down at the infant in his arms. Her eyes were very heavy now, but she was still awake, still watching him as he talked to her.

"This, Miss Charlie, is your mother and I on our wedding day, just over a year ago." Elena beamed. Their wedding photos were framed all over the house, but the one Damon had chosen to frame for his office was one of her favorites. It was a candid shot, the pair of them laughing during Stefan's best man speech. Their eyes were bright and dancing, Damon's arm around her as she leaned into him. They were blissfully happy and while not every day was perfect, most of their days ended in laughter.

"I still can't believe she said yes to me," he told Charlie. "I didn't plan some big romantic proposal. I had my mother's engagement ring cleaned and sized for your mom a few weeks before I proposed. I knew I was going to ask her to marry me, but I hadn't really planned on the when part. But one evening, I came home from work, and your mom was in the kitchen. She was wearing my t-shirt, didn't have on a stitch of makeup, and her hair was piled up on top of her head. She was attempting to cook, and dancing around to some pop song. And I just knew. I knew I had to marry her. I had to come home to scenes like that every day for the rest of my life. So, I asked her, right there in the kitchen. And she said yes."

Elena smiled brightly, remembering how she had turned around to find Damon behind her, a nervous look in his eyes, the most beautiful diamond ring she had ever seen in his hand. He made a speech and got down on one knee. She took just enough time to mutter the word 'yes' before launching herself at him, the ring forgotten until several minutes later when he remembered to slip it onto her finger.

"You have the best mom," he continued. "She is the best woman, Charlie. Our wedding day was the second best day of my life. The day you were born is the best day of both of our lives. Your mom is going to love you and teach you so much. She's also going to be the disciplinarian. She's good at telling people what to do, trust me." Elena rolled her eyes. "She's also pretty good at eavesdropping. She's been standing in the doorway of this study, listening in our conversation for the last ten minutes." Elena gaped.

"I thought…" Damon turned to her, smirking.

"You thought I had no idea you were there," he said. "You should know by now that I have Elena radar."

"Elena radar?" Elena asked, walking into the room.

"My heart is always with you," Damon answered smoothly. Elena beamed at him. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his check before turning her attention to Charlie whose eyes had fluttered shut. She looked completely content in her father's arms, almost as content as he looked holding her. The role of father suited him extremely well.

"How's our girl?" she asked, reaching out to adjust the blanket Charlie was wrapped in.

"Perfect," Damon answered. "She is completely perfect."

"Sounds like the two of you were having a good talk."

"I was showing her around the place," Damon said. "We only covered the downstairs. I figure I'll hold out on showing her the upstairs until I'm pacing the floors with her in the wee hours of the morning."

"You gave her a family history lesson."

"I did," Damon confirmed. "She needed to know about us."

"You left out the part where her father is an incredible man," Elena told him. "The best man, as far as both me and Charlie are concerned." Damon smiled at her.

"I'm the man I am only because you love me," he said. He leaned down and kissed her softly, Charlie nestled between them. "And on another note, how do you feel about guns?" Elena frowned.

"Guns?" she asked. "Where in the world did guns come from?"

"I have a daughter," Damon stated. "A beautiful, perfect daughter. And some day, when she's forty, guys are going to want to date her. And I know guys, Elena. I am a guy. You remember how I was when you met me. I don't want guys getting anywhere near my daughter. So, if I have to buy a gun and sit on my front porch, I will." Elena tried not to laugh, but couldn't stop herself.

"Forty, Damon? Really?"

"I think that's fair," he reasoned. "Like I said, I know guys. They aren't touching my daughter." Elena shook her head in amusement.

"I think sixteen is a much more reasonable age for us to consider letting her date," she said. Damon scoffed.

"Sixteen," he mumbled. "You act like I'll have let her leave this house by then." Elena just shook her head again. She reached for Charlie.

"Give me my baby," she told him. "It's my turn." Damon relinquished the baby once he was sure she was secure in Elena's arms.

"I'm going to go heat up something for dinner," he said. "Got a preference as to which freezer meal or casserole I pull out of the fridge?" Between Caroline, Rebekah, Jenna, Bonnie, and most of the women in Mystic Falls, they had enough food to last them a while without having to cook. Benefits of being new parents.

"You choose," Elena told him. "I'm going to use your absence to tell Charlie how sorry I am that of all the men in the world I could have fallen in love with, I had to choose the most overprotective one of all to be her father."

"You think I'm joking about that forty years old thing."

"I don't think you're joking," Elena said with a shake of her head. "I think you've lost your mind." She looked down at Charlie in her arms. "Daddy has lost his mind," she told the infant. "But, mommy is pretty good at getting him to change it."

"That she is," Damon agreed. He put an arm around Elena and pulled her to him, Charlie snuggled between them. "She got me to straighten up and fly right."

"You made those decisions all on your own," Elena said, smiling up at him. "And I love you."

"I love you, too," he said. "So much." He looked down at the baby cradled between them. "I love you too, little one." He leaned down and placed the softest of kisses on Charlie's forehead. "You two girls get comfortable in the media room. Dinner will be served on our finest plastic in a half hour."

"Yes, sir," Elena said. "I'd salute, but – baby in the arms."

"Precious cargo," Damon confirmed. Together, they left the study, Elena turning towards the media room with Charlie in her arms. Damon headed towards the kitchen and glanced over his shoulder.

He had thought his life was complete. And then he met Elena. He lost her. Then he got her back. And life was complete. Except it hadn't been, not until she married him.

But now, they had Charlie.

And life was complete.

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><p><strong>And this story is complete. <strong>

**One more time, thank you. **

**And if you want to read more from me, check out my new story, Restrictor Plate! **


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